Category: English

When my boyfriend ordered me food delivery, he decided to play a stupid prank in the notes: “This is for my e-girlfriend. Could you do me a solid and check if she’s as hot as her pictures? Heard she looks like a total goddess.” Sighing, I decided to play along with his little game. When I opened the door, the delivery guy’s eyes raked over me. “Wow,” he said. “You’re really beautiful.” I gave him a polite “thank you,” but a strange knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. I tried to shut the door quickly, but his foot shot out, blocking it. He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Thank you?” he repeated, his voice low. “So… how are you going to thank me?” 1 I swallowed hard, a cold dread washing over me. My instincts screamed that this was dangerous. The way he looked at me was predatory, like he wanted to devour me whole. It was almost eleven at night; if he forced his way in, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Trying to keep the tremor out of my voice, I forced a calm tone. “You’re right. It’s late and you worked hard to get here. I’ll have my boyfriend add a generous tip for you.” I turned my head and called into the empty apartment, “Liam! Hey, that delivery you ordered? The driver is super nice, make sure you give him a good tip!” My boyfriend, Liam, wasn’t here, of course. I was just trying to scare the guy off, make him think I wasn’t alone. My heart was a jackhammer against my ribs, but I managed to squeeze out a smile. “Okay, my food’s getting cold, and you probably have more deliveries. Have a good night.” I pushed against the door again. His foot didn’t budge. His face, pitted with coarse pores, leaned closer. “You think I’m an idiot?” he sneered. “If your boyfriend was home, why would the order have your phone number on it?” 2 I flinched back, cursing Liam in my head. He always used his own number when he ordered for me, then texted me when it arrived. Why, of all nights, did he have to use my number and pull this stupid prank with this specific creep? Gritting my teeth, I improvised. “Oh, that? He wanted it to be a surprise, so he wanted me to be the one to get it. It’s just a little game we play. If he used his number, he’d have to get the door, and that would ruin the fun. You know?” The driver grunted, pretending to agree, but then his other hand braced against the doorframe. I could feel him starting to push, his strength slowly building against mine. Panic seized me. My hands, slick with sweat, were straining to hold the door. If he got it open, I was done for. My eyes widened in feigned annoyance, and I yelled back into the apartment, “Liam, say something! Did you fall asleep?!” A second later, my boyfriend’s familiar voice drifted from the bedroom. “Hey, babe, I’m here. Must have dozed off for a sec. What’s taking so long with the food? Are you still out there?” Hearing his voice, the driver finally relented. He stopped pushing and pulled his foot back. His entire demeanor shifted. “Ha, my bad,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I was just trying to help you carry it inside. Since your boyfriend’s here, I’ll get out of your hair. Enjoy your meal.” A wave of relief washed over me. Thank God Liam was so quick on his feet. We’d been on a video call when my phone had buzzed with the delivery notification. Living alone, I’m always cautious. I hadn’t ordered anything, so I ignored the call and stayed on the video chat. Liam was the one who told me he’d ordered it, explaining his dumb prank and how the driver just wanted to see what I looked like. He’d told the driver he was worried he was being catfished and needed visual confirmation. He said if I didn’t come to the door, the driver would probably keep knocking. He told me not to overthink it, that the guy would just say I was pretty and leave. I can’t believe I bought it. I figured, fine, I’ll play along for a minute. So I opened the door. But this wasn’t what Liam described at all. I was just thankful I hadn’t hung up the call, and that Liam had sensed something was wrong and spoken up. My phone was still in the bedroom, and his excuse about falling asleep made perfect sense. I had tricked him. The driver was finally leaving. As I relaxed my guard and put my weight into shutting the door, his other hand shot out, slapping against the wood. “You’re a fun one,” he chuckled, a sinister glint in his eyes. “Did you really think I was just going to leave?” 3 Before I could even process his words, he started talking, his voice a low, excited murmur. “I was just playing along with you. See how nice I am? This is like our own little game, isn’t it? I’ve never even had a girlfriend before. This is my first time playing something like this.” The door began to creak open as he pried at it. His foot slid back into the gap. The fear was real now, sharp and suffocating. “Get the hell out!” I screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!” He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he pulled out his phone and showed me the chat log with Liam from the delivery app. My blood ran cold as I saw the messages. Liam had told him everything, holding nothing back. Driver: What if she’s not alone? Liam: She is. I guarantee it. Driver: What if she’s a catfish? Liam: Then do me a favor and teach her a lesson. I knew Liam was just trying to be edgy, fully committing to the stupid “e-girlfriend” prank. But what now? What was I going to do? The gap in the door widened. I told myself to stay calm, glaring at him with all the menace I could muster. “If you touch me, you’ll rot in prison!” His smile just got wider, more grotesque. He waved his phone. “What? I’m just teaching you a lesson, like your boyfriend said. You are a catfish! He said you were a goddess, and yeah, you’re pretty, but you’re no goddess.” His twisted logic left me speechless. The door was opening wider and wider. I couldn’t hold him back anymore. I turned to sprint for my phone in the bedroom. Suddenly, an explosion of pain erupted from my scalp. He had a fistful of my hair, yanking me backward with brutal force. A raw scream tore from my throat. I thrashed, trying to break his grip, but he kicked me hard in the stomach. The strength difference was immense; I was powerless. He started dragging me toward the sofa, and a sob escaped my lips. Liam’s voice was still echoing from the bedroom. “Aubrey! What’s wrong?! I think I heard you scream! Should I call 911? Aubrey, answer me!” I tried to scream back, to tell him yes, but just as I opened my mouth, a hand cracked across my face. The world went white for a second. Tears streamed down my cheeks, my mind chanting one frantic thought: No, please, this is disgusting. My whole body trembled as he tied my hands and found my phone. The video call was still active. Liam’s terrified face filled the screen. Seeing him gave me a sliver of hope. “Help…” CRACK. Another slap, harder this time. My face was on fire. “Aubrey! What’s happening?!” Liam screamed, his eyes wide with horror as he saw my swelling cheek. The driver’s leering face appeared next to mine on the screen. “No… I’m so sorry, Aubrey, this is all my fault!” Liam was sobbing now. “I just saw that stupid prank online, I thought it would be funny… How could this happen?! Hold on, I’m coming to save you!” The driver seemed to be enjoying the show. He didn’t hang up. His fingers moved toward the buttons of my shirt. The violation snapped me back to reality. I spat in his face. “You really think you can get away with this?! I don’t know what gives you the nerve, but I have hidden cameras all over this apartment. Everything you’re doing is being recorded! If I survive this, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail! And even if I die, Liam will have the proof to do the same!” I was bluffing, trying to scare him into stopping. It was the wrong thing to say. His hands shot to my throat, squeezing with terrifying force. He was putting his entire weight into it. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even make a sound. My mind went blank. I forgot how to draw air. Liam’s voice was fading, a distant, panicked buzz. “Aubrey! Hang on! The police are on their way! You bastard! You murderer! Let her go!” Was this how I was going to die? Choked to death on my own floor? No. I don’t want this. But there was nothing I could do. Just as I thought it was over, my airway opened. Air rushed into my lungs in a great, heaving gasp, and I broke into a violent coughing fit. For a fleeting moment, I thought he’d had a change of heart, that he was letting me go. But then the searing pain returned to my scalp. He was pulling my hair again, dragging me out the door. This was a chance! As soon as we were in the hallway, I would scream my lungs out. Someone would hear. The next second, a towel was shoved into my mouth, gagging me. My heart sank into a pit of cold, black despair. 4 He dragged me toward the stairwell. Everyone used the elevator; the stairs were always deserted. Help me… Somebody, please, help me… I stopped struggling, my body going limp. All I could do was pray that someone, anyone, would hear the noise on the stairs. His face loomed closer. A chill ran down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, turning my head away. I had thought that as long as I survived, I could get justice. But as true despair set in, a new thought took root: If he… if he did that to me, I’d rather be dead. Tears streamed from my closed eyes. My heart was a dead, silent thing in my chest. I gave up, lying perfectly still. Suddenly, a bright light flashed across my face, and my heart leaped into my throat. “Who’s there?” a man’s voice called out. The voice sparked a new, frantic wave of resistance in me. I started struggling with everything I had. The driver shoved a few crumpled bills into the newcomer’s hand. “Hey, man. Just pretend you didn’t see anything.” I couldn’t believe anyone would just walk away. I stared at the man on the stairs, my eyes pleading with him, begging him to save me. But right in front of me, he pocketed the cash. “Keep it down,” he said. “And by the way, there are no cameras in the stairwell.” A roaring filled my ears. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. The man continued down the stairs, the crisp sound of his footsteps echoing around me. I didn’t care about the shaking of my body anymore. After a few minutes, the man who had assaulted me stood up. I forced myself to remember that I had to live. I had to survive. I stared at him, my eyes wide, trying to memorize his face in the faint moonlight. But then, a kitchen knife appeared in his hand. In the reflection on the blade, I saw my own tear-streaked face, my hair a tangled mess. My legs gave out. With my hands tied, I couldn’t move. I could only watch as the knife swung down towards me. Drops of blood slid from the tip of the blade. Before I lost consciousness completely, I saw a twisted, eerie smile spread across his face. 5 I finally understood. The monster never intended to let me go. He wanted to rape and kill me from the start. But I refused to accept it! I didn’t want to die like this! Humiliated and forgotten! I want to live! When I opened my eyes again, Liam’s voice was coming from my phone. “Babe, your phone was ringing. Who was it?” I stared at his face on the screen, my mind reeling. I clutched my chest. There was no wound. I realized it instantly. I had been reborn. 6 I scrambled to check my call history. Sure enough, the most recent call was from the delivery driver. I looked up at Liam on the screen. His voice softened. “Aubrey? What’s wrong? You’re looking at me like I’m your worst enemy. Did I do something to make you mad again?” I didn’t have time for him. I grabbed my phone, slid on my slippers, and tiptoed out of the bedroom. My heart pounding, I peered through the peephole in the front door. The hallway was silent and empty. Liam’s voice droned on from the phone. “You’re being way too cautious. Just go get the food. You said you were hungry, so I ordered you something. Hey, maybe the driver will even tell you you’re pretty. What are you so afraid of? It’s just a delivery guy. He’s in a hurry. If you don’t go out, he can’t complete the order on his end.” My nerves were stretched to the breaking point. I couldn’t let what happened before happen again. “Shut up!” I snapped. Liam, offended, abruptly ended the video call. My thumb hovered over the 9-1-1 button. I hesitated. If I called the police and they arrived to find nothing, would they accuse me of filing a false report? But I had to be safe. No matter what, I was not opening that door tonight. I scanned the living room and dragged my small bookshelf in front of the door, wedging it shut. It was the only way I would get any sleep. I turned to go wash my slippers in the bathroom. For some reason, they felt sticky and weird the moment I put them on. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a knock echoed from the front door. Thump. Thump. Thump. My heart leaped into my throat. I stood frozen, silent, my fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. I wanted to scream, to unleash all the rage from what I had suffered. But I took a deep breath and quietly dialed 9-1-1. The knocking continued, and the man’s disgusting voice filtered through the door. “Miss, company policy says I have to see the recipient in person. I know you’re in there. Please come get your food. I’m a busy man.” … I would not fall for the same trap twice. I was surprisingly calm now. As the knocking grew more violent, a few books tumbled from the top of the bookshelf. I bent to pick them up. That’s when I saw it. A comic book I had never seen before. It had fallen open to a page where a bold title shocked me to my core: THE PSYCHO DRIVER MURDERS. As if possessed, I picked it up. The woman being murdered in the comic… looked exactly like me.

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1 It was Labor Day weekend. My boyfriend Harry and I were supposed to be on a romantic road trip—but of course his whole clique tagged along. That night, around a bonfire playing Truth or Dare, the bottle pointed at me. Jessica, Harry’s “best girl friend,” grinned slyly and asked, “So Clara, how many guys have you slept with?” I looked desperately at Harry, but he just shrugged as the others hooted. “Two,” I mumbled. The second time, Jessica asked, “When was your first time with Harry? A hotel or a car?” My patience was thinning. Again, Harry did nothing. Pressured by the crowd, I forced out, “Last summer. A hotel.” The third time she asked what position we used. I snapped. I shoved the folding table, sending beer cans flying. Three times in a row—this wasn’t a game, it was an interrogation. Walking away, I deliberately slowed, waiting. But Harry didn’t follow. Instead, I heard him comforting her: “Don’t worry, Jess. She’s just being weird tonight. It’s not about you.” I sighed. Harry, we were done. … “It’s getting chilly out here. You’ll catch a cold.” I don’t know how much time had passed, but I felt a sudden weight on my shoulders. Harry was draping his jacket over me, carefully tucking the collar around my neck. He was always like this—so attentive, noticing every little detail. In the five years we’d been together, he was the one who’d spot my untied shoelace and kneel to fix it, the one who remembered my cycle and would bring me hot tea and a heating pad without being asked. He leaned against the wooden railing beside me and lit a cigarette. “Clara, that’s just Jessica. She’s always been… a lot. We grew up together. You’re my girlfriend, so she sees you as one of us. She doesn’t have a filter.” He took a drag. “You’re usually so easygoing. What’s with the temper tantrum tonight?” The anger I’d managed to quell came roaring back, his words like a stone shattering the calm surface of a lake. I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice even. “Harry, do you honestly think those questions were a joke?” I asked. “And another thing, why does she know every single detail about our lives? Do we have any privacy at all?” He sensed the shift in my mood and backed off, switching to his usual charming self. He squeezed my shoulder, a playful grin on his face. “My bad, my bad. I swear, I’ll be more careful about what I say from now on.” “Come on, babe,” he coaxed. “Don’t forget the real reason we came on this trip. Let’s go back and get some rest. No more fighting, okay?” I glared at him but, considering our plans for the next day, I relented and walked back toward the campsite with him. As we approached, I could hear his friends talking. “She’s only been with Harry for five years and she acts like she owns him.” “Seriously. She needs to get over herself. We’ve known him our whole lives. If Jessica wasn’t such a good person, content with just being his best friend, do you think this girl would even have a chance?” “Poor Jessica. Harry’s so whipped. When he gets back, he better apologize to her.” “I say we use this trip as a test. See if she’s really good enough for Harry…” I stood frozen outside their tent, a hot, unfamiliar rage building inside me. I’d never been humiliated like this in my life. I was about to charge in there and give them a piece of my mind when Harry grabbed my arm, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shh.” “Clara, I’ll handle it. You go back to our tent and get some sleep.” Inside our tent, my eyes fell on the wine-red floral dress folded neatly on my sleeping bag. A lump formed in my throat. It had been my mother’s. I’m terrible at keeping things tidy, and since my mom passed away from a sudden illness six months ago, my life had been a chaotic mess. Harry had stepped up, moving in to help, taking care of the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning—everything. He’d held me through countless nights of sobbing, promising he would always be my rock. I stroked the soft fabric of the dress. Mom, I thought, am I just overreacting? The night was dark and heavy. I fell into a restless sleep, clutching the dress. In my dreams, I told my mother that I was going to the mountain chapel in two days to light a candle for her, to fulfill her last wish. She stroked my hair, her touch as gentle and peaceful as it had been in life. I was startled awake by the sound of splashing water and male and female voices. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the pale light of dawn. Harry’s sleeping bag was still perfectly made, untouched. Confused, I walked down to the small mountain spring where everyone was washing up. Harry and his friends were already there. I noticed, oddly, that he was wearing a high-collared shirt. Before I could ask, Jessica sidled up next to me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Morning, Clara. Sleep well?” I met her defiant gaze, not wanting to start my day with a fight. I gave her a noncommittal grunt. “Guess you slept great,” she continued, leaning closer. “Didn’t even notice someone was missing from your tent all night?” A thick, cloying mint smell wafted from her. I shot her a look of pure disgust and, as I did, I saw it: a dark, angry-red hickey, nestled deep in the curve of her neck. Jessica’s lips curved into a triumphant smirk. She tossed her long, wavy hair over her shoulder. “Who do you think you are? You think a few years with Harry gives you some kind of claim on him? I’ve known him since we were kids, and I’ve never seen him let a woman boss him around like this. He actually turned down drinks with us, multiple times, for you.” “This trip was to show you something,” she hissed, her face now inches from mine. “For Harry, girlfriends can come and go. But I am the most important person in his life. Period.” Her face was so close I could see the thick foundation caked in the lines of her distorted expression. This was pathetic. I took a step back, trying to create some distance. But she lunged, grabbing my arm. She pulled down the collar of her own shirt, her eyes wild with a crazed glee. “Take a good look. Harry gave me this last night. We slept very, very soundly.” “You’re insane!” I yelled, ripping my arm away. Her long, sharp nails scraped down my skin, leaving four raw, bleeding scratches. She raised an eyebrow, then deliberately stumbled backward, falling into the shallow spring with a loud splash. The sound drew everyone’s attention, including Harry’s. He was at her side in an instant, instinctively helping her up. “What is it now?” he asked, his voice edged with annoyance as he shot a frustrated look at me. Jessica, her clothes soaked, huddled in his arms, her eyes welling with tears. “Harry, don’t be mad,” she sobbed. “I was just talking to Clara. I wanted to apologize for last night, but I guess I just made her angry again. You know me, I never think before I speak…” Harry sighed heavily. When I remained silent, his expression softened. He walked towards me, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Clara, we’re all here to have a good time. I know you’ve been struggling since your mom… and I hoped this trip would help you relax. Can we please not fight over every little thing?” He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “These are my oldest friends, Clara. I really want the person I love to get along with the people I care about. I told you last night, Jessica has always been like this, but she has a good heart. Once you get to know her, you’ll see.” The ever-observant man who noticed a loose shoelace from across a room somehow failed to see the bright red gashes on my arm. All I could feel from him was a desperate need to smooth things over, to make the problem go away. A wave of revulsion washed over me. I pulled away from his touch, and as I did, my eyes caught a flash of pinkish-red peeking out from under the collar of his shirt. A mark that matched Jessica’s. The retort on the tip of my tongue died. All I felt was a cold, stunning sense of relief. My mother’s last wish… maybe it wasn’t just about lighting a candle. Maybe it was about this. About finally seeing Harry for who he really was. I was done fighting. “A-achoo!” Jessica sneezed twice, theatrically. Harry’s attention snapped back to her. “Are you cold?” he asked gently. “It’s nothing, Harry. As long as you and Clara make up, I’ll be fine. You know how tough I am. A little water won’t hurt me. Cough, cough.” I had to look away. Another second of her performance and I would have thrown up. Harry, meanwhile, was the picture of concern, pulling out a tissue and dabbing her face. “You’re coughing. Of course it’s not nothing.” He turned to me. “Clara, you’re the one who pushed her in. Their tents are already packed up. Let Jessica use our tent to change into some dry clothes.” Before I could even respond, he was holding the tent flap open for her. A moment later, Jessica’s voice floated out. “Wow, Harry, this dress of Clara’s looks so old-fashioned, but it’s actually kind of pretty on.” A cold dread washed over me. I burst into the tent. She was wearing my mother’s dress. She feigned surprise, then smiled. “Oh, hi, Clara. We’re about the same size, aren’t we? It fits me perfectly.” “Take it off,” I said, my voice dangerously low. Jessica just rolled her eyes and started fumbling with the zipper on the back. “Make me. What are you gonna do about it?” My head was pounding. “Jessica, I don’t care what you and Harry have going on. Take. That. Dress. Off. Now. Or I swear, you’ll regret it.” She ignored me, calling out, “Harry, sweetie, can you come help me with this zipper? I can’t reach.” I didn’t say another word. I slapped her. Twice. Hard. “Take it off! This is your last chance!” My hand was trembling from the force. Suddenly, I was shoved violently from behind. I stumbled and fell to the ground as the rest of the group crowded around the tent opening. Harry didn’t help me up. He just looked down at me, the same disgusted expression on his face as the others. “Harry, you need to control your girlfriend! We’ve been putting up with her all weekend, and now she’s physically attacking people!” “Yeah, look at Jessica’s face! It’s all red!” “Harry, we get it, you’re whipped, but there’s a limit! Jessica’s your best friend! How could you let this happen?” As if to prove a point, Harry hauled me roughly to my feet. “Clara, what the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted. “Ever since your mother died, I have bent over backwards for you. I’ve ignored my friends, I’ve let them be insulted, all to cater to your moods. I thought this trip would help, that you’d all finally connect, but I guess I was wrong.” Tears streamed down my face. “Harry, look what she’s wearing!” He sighed, exasperated. “So she’s wearing your mother’s dress! That doesn’t give you the right to hit her! She didn’t know. You could have just asked her to take it off. Why do you have to make such a big deal out of everything?” I was speechless. Before I could respond, Jessica shrieked. “What? This is a dead person’s dress? Oh my god, that’s so gross! Clara, are you a psycho? Who brings a dead person’s clothes on a camping trip?” She turned to Harry. “Harry, get this zipper undone! I thought it was something special, but who would want to wear this thing?” I lunged forward to stop her from ripping it. RRRRIP. The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the small tent. The back of the dress was shredded, exposing Jessica’s bare back. “Wow, what a piece of junk,” she sneered. “Barely touched it and it fell apart. Harry, don’t look! This is so embarrassing.” A white-hot rage, purer than anything I had ever felt, consumed me. The veins in my neck stood out. “Jessica! I am going to kill you!” Harry grabbed me, pinning my arms to my sides. He shot a look at Jessica, signaling for her to leave. She pouted. “Harry, can’t you even handle your own woman?” In the struggle, a sharp slap landed across my face. Harry looked at me, his eyes full of exhaustion. “Clara, just stop. Please. It’s just a dress. I’ll have Jessica pay for it, okay? Why do you have to be so aggressive?” “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you,” he said, his voice weary. “People’s patience has limits, Clara. I’m just… I’m tired.” “You need to cool off. By yourself.” He took off the jacket he’d put on me the night before and wrapped it around Jessica’s shoulders. He put a protective arm around her and led her away. The noisy tent fell silent. The only thing I could feel was the burning sting on my cheek, a fiery reminder that this was real. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. Harry, I was so blind. We are so over. Outside, Harry lit another cigarette. “There you go, Harry. Don’t look so down. This is a good chance to teach her a lesson. Otherwise, she’ll be completely out of control,” one of his friends said. Jessica plucked the cigarette from Harry’s lips and put it in her own. “Exactly. Look at what she’s done to our boy.” “Come on, I’ll help you find something else to wear, and then let’s go hit the sights.” Harry glanced back at my tent and sighed. Fine. Leaving me alone for a day wouldn’t kill me. We were in the middle of nowhere; it wasn’t like I could go far. Besides, we still had to go to the chapel tomorrow to fulfill my mom’s wish. He’d talk to me then, smooth things over. As for the dress, a good tailor could fix it. Reassured, he agreed, his mood lifting slightly. He turned to Jessica. “You okay? That must have been scary. Clara was really close to her mom. She hasn’t been the same since she died. That’s why she reacted so badly.” Jessica blew a smoke ring, draping her arm over his shoulder. “It’s whatever. I was just worried about you. Women are so emotional. I don’t know how you put up with it.” Harry poked her nose playfully. “You’re a woman, too.” “Yeah,” she said with a grin. “But I’m also your best bro.” That evening, Harry returned to the tent carrying a takeout container. “Clara? You must be starving. I brought you some food.” Silence. He raised his voice. “Are you still mad? Jessica’s not even mad at you anymore. Don’t be so petty.” Still no answer. A knot of unease tightened in his stomach. He ripped open the tent flap. It was empty. Jessica wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Relax. It’s stuffy in there. She probably just went for a walk. She’ll be back.” Harry checked his phone. No messages from me. A jolt of real panic shot through him. I always told him where I was going. Always. Today, his phone was silent. Jessica saw his expression and teased, “See? It’s always the girlfriend. You’re the worst when it comes to choosing chicks over your friends.” “Come on, Harry,” another friend chimed in. “Since she’s gone, the four of us can play some poker.” Harry reluctantly agreed, but his mind wasn’t on the game. Where had I gone? After two hands, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket and headed out. Jessica grabbed his arm, pouting. “Harry, if you leave us now, I’m never speaking to you again.” He shook her off and walked out into the moonlight. He dialed my number. A cold, automated voice answered. A wave of pure terror washed over him. He was afraid, guilty, filled with a sickening regret for leaving me alone out here. The more it went to voicemail, the more frantic he became, dialing the number he knew by heart over and over again. “Clara, where are you?”

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1 All because I smoked a cigarette in the designated smoking area, the new Vice President docked my department’s million-dollar bonus. “The moment I stepped into the smoking area and lit up, you posted a no-smoking policy in the company-wide chat. Are you targeting me on purpose?” “Yes,” she said with a smug grin. “I’m making an example of you.” “Fine, punish me. But the department bonus isn’t mine alone—it belongs to the whole team. You can’t punish them for what I did.” “Why didn’t they report you? They deserve to be punished right along with you!” she shot back, her voice sharp and merciless. “Fine,” I said with a faint smile. “I accept the punishment.” Then I immediately applied for my annual leave. A day later, the entire company was in a desperate frenzy, trying to find me. … “Lia, the company just issued a no-smoking policy, and you’re already flouting the rules! This is outrageous! As a penalty, I am hereby announcing that your department’s entire quarterly bonus is revoked!” The new VP, Vivian Shaw, clicked her stilettos across the floor and stormed into the smoking area, her voice echoing with indignation. “What no-smoking policy?” I asked, a half-smoked cigarette still between my fingers, my face a mask of confusion. “Did you just say you’re docking our department’s entire one-million-dollar bonus for the quarter?” “That’s right! The entire million-dollar bonus is gone!” Vivian deliberately raised her voice. Her shout jolted my colleagues, who were napping at their desks in our office, wide awake. They all stared at me in disbelief. This quarter, our product design department had pulled countless all-nighters to land a massive contract, bringing in over a hundred million in revenue for the company. The Chairman himself had personally approved the million-dollar bonus. Today was payday, the end of the quarter. Our bonuses were supposed to be included. And just like that, with a single sentence from Vivian, it was all gone? “First thing this morning, I posted the new company regulations in the group chat,” she snapped. “The very first rule is a company-wide ban on smoking to protect the health of our employees. You’re a department manager. Don’t you even read company announcements? Now, put out that cigarette!” “I walked into the smoking area and lit my cigarette before you posted that rule in the chat. Are you targeting me on purpose?” I opened my phone. The timestamp on her post was just moments after I’d stepped outside. It was perfectly timed. “Yes, I am!” she declared, a triumphant smirk on her face. “I needed to make an example of someone.” “Your product design department, and especially you, its manager, have been strutting around this company like you own the place for too long. Since you’re so eager to stick your neck out, you’re the perfect one to sacrifice to establish my authority.” Vivian preened, theatrically wafting away the smoke I’d exhaled. “Ms. Shaw, this is a designated smoking area. I wasn’t smoking inside the main office,” I stated, my voice even and calm. Our department was the busiest in the company. We were constantly working overtime, and design work is mentally draining. Everyone on my team smoked. To accommodate us, the Chairman had given us a corner office with an attached terrace specifically for smoking, ensuring the smoke never drifted into the rest of the building. I had even paid out of my own pocket to install a high-powered, imported air purifier in our office and stocked up on smoke-eliminating spray and mouthwash. I made it a strict rule for my team: before leaving our office area, you spray down and use mouthwash. We did it to avoid bothering colleagues who were sensitive to smoke, and in all the years, there had never been a single complaint. “Isn’t the terrace company property? Did you not read the rule? The ban is company-wide!” “Ms. Shaw, did the Chairman approve this penalty?” I knew she was targeting me, so I had no choice but to bring up the big boss. My team and I had just pulled an all-nighter to finish the designs for a new client, finally securing the deal. We were all exhausted, practically dead on our feet, sleeping at our desks without even having had breakfast. When the official workday started, two other colleagues who were still awake and I had come out to the terrace for a smoke to wake ourselves up. They’d finished theirs and gone back inside to rest. I had a meeting coming up, so I lit a second one for a final jolt of energy. I had already seen Vivian hiding nearby, spying on our office through the glass. She had deliberately waited until I was alone to make her move. “The penalty notice has already been signed by the General Manager. See for yourself!” she said, shoving a document in my face. “And in a few minutes, I’ll be sending out a company-wide email to publicly censure you!” So, she wasn’t even pretending. She’d had the penalty notice drawn up and signed before she’d even “caught” me. “Ms. Shaw, I was the one smoking. It was my violation. Fine me, I accept it. But the department bonus isn’t just mine. You can dock my portion, but you can’t punish the entire team for my actions.” “Why didn’t they report you? They deserve to be punished right along with you!” she retorted, her tone merciless. Then she leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me be honest, Lia. I’m doing this so they’ll all resent you for losing their money.” “Such a clever plan, Ms. Shaw. Fine. I accept the punishment.” I paused. “Just don’t come to regret this.” I took one last, long drag from my cigarette, crushed the butt under my heel, and blew the smoke directly into her face. “Lia, this is obviously a setup! Are we just going to take this?” “No way, Lia! We can’t let that bitch Vivian walk all over us! You have to go to the Chairman!” “Are you an idiot? The Chairman is in Europe for a conference. Vivian deliberately waited until he was out of the country to pull this.” “My bonus… I promised my wife I’d buy her a new bag with it. Damn it!” After Vivian had strutted away, my team gathered around me, fuming. Of course, I knew it was a setup. The fact that she had a penalty notice signed by the General Manager, Mark, was all the proof I needed that they had officially declared war on me. Mark was a portly, greasy middle-aged man. On a business trip once, he’d tried to get me drunk and then used a spare key card to get into my hotel room in the middle of the night. Fortunately, I was prepared. I used a self-defense move that nearly cost him his family jewels, and he had scrambled out of my room, whimpering. He’d held a grudge ever since. It was no secret that Vivian was Mark’s mistress. In her paranoid little mind, she had convinced herself that I was also his mistress and therefore her rival. She’d been spreading vicious rumors about me for years—that I’d slept my way to my position, that I’d had orgies with clients on business trips, that I’d performed stripteases on dining tables, that she’d personally seen me at a clinic getting an abortion. But Vivian’s plan to turn my team against me was a spectacular failure. Everyone in the company knew that the product design department was the most unified team. There were two reasons for that. One, my skills were undeniable, and under my leadership, they produced outstanding work. Two, I was fiercely protective of my people. I fought tooth and nail for every benefit and every bonus they deserved. They made good money with me. “Everyone, calm down. What’s there to be afraid of?” I said, a cool, confident smile playing on my lips. “Vivian is coming after me. She thinks she can grind me into the dust? In her dreams.” “I promise you all, you will not lose a single cent of that million-dollar bonus. If the company refuses to pay it, I will cover it myself.” The colleague who had mentioned his wife’s bag blushed and scratched his head. “Lia, that’s not what I meant…” “I know. You all worked your asses off this quarter. You earned that bonus, and Vivian Shaw is not going to take it from you.” “Alright, you’ve all been up all night. Go home, get some real sleep. Come back in tomorrow.” I started ushering my team, with their dark circles and bloodshot eyes, towards the door. “But Lia, Apex Holdings is coming tomorrow to review the final designs! We’re not finished yet!” “Yeah, Lia! Vivian just set you up. If we all leave now, she’ll just use it as another excuse to come after you.” Their concern was genuine. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. There won’t be any problems. I’ll handle the finishing touches. The Chairman approved a flexible work schedule for our department, remember?” With my insistence, the entire team finally went home. Moments later, Vivian posted the official penalty notice in the company-wide group chat. She also sent a mass email, with my name, Lia Vance, in bold and enlarged font, ensuring no one could possibly miss it. The email concluded with another bolded sentence: “This company has a zero-tolerance policy for secondhand smoke. Lia Vance has deliberately flouted the rules, showing a blatant disregard for the health of her colleagues. This is both foolish and malicious. Any further infractions will result in immediate termination.” “A million dollars, just like that? Vivian is playing dirty with Lia.” “Serves her right! The design department gets the biggest bonuses every year. Why should they get so much when the rest of us get so little? Let’s see how arrogant that slut is now!” I had just walked into the restroom when I overheard two women from another department gossiping. “You. Out,” I said, glaring at the one who hadn’t been speaking. She scurried away, head down. Smack! I grabbed the other woman by the hair and delivered two sharp slaps across her face. “Lia! What the hell! You can’t just hit people!” she shrieked, clutching her cheek. But when she met my cold, murderous gaze, her bravado vanished. “Get out.” From the restroom, I went straight to HR and submitted a request for my annual leave. I hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. It was about time. “Lia, this request needs to be signed by Ms. Shaw,” the HR manager said, looking at me with an apologetic, knowing glance. “That’s another one of the new rules she implemented today.” “Fine.” I took the form and went directly to Vivian’s office. “Ms. Shaw, I’m taking my annual leave. I need your signature.” “Lia, I thought you were here to resign,” she said, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she took the form. “I’ll resign after my vacation. You win, Ms. Shaw. I can’t compete with you. I’m too humiliated to show my face here anymore.” “I just want to use up my vacation days and get a little extra pay. You wouldn’t deny me that small comfort, would you?” I kept my head down, feigning a look of defeated resignation. “Oh, Lia, you can’t resign!” Vivian giggled. “If you leave, who will I have to torment?” She scribbled her signature on the form with a flourish. I snatched the paper from her without a word and turned to leave. You idiot, I thought. Let’s see how long that smile lasts. I packed my things, making sure to lock the box of premium Cohiba cigars—the Apex Holdings CEO’s favorite—in my desk drawer. Then I turned off my phone and began my vacation. “Lia, the CEO of Apex is furious! He’s threatening to cancel the contract! Mark is freaking out and screaming at us to find you immediately.” My team member, Leo, was laughing as he spoke to me on my backup phone. “No rush,” I said calmly. “I have thirty days of vacation. We’ll talk when I get back.” “Lia, you won’t believe this. Mark started calling us into his office one by one, trying to turn us against you. He promised to immediately reinstate the quarterly bonus for whoever could find you and get you to come back. The old bastard is really desperate. I heard the Chairman called him from Europe and chewed him out. Told him that if the Apex project falls through, he’ll be held personally responsible.” The next day, as I was lounging on a beach chair, smoking a cigarette and watching the waves, Leo called again. “And?” I asked. “Don’t worry, our department is solid. I’m keeping an eye on things. No one gave him your backup number. We all told him your main phone is off and you’re not responding to any emails or messages. We have no way to contact you.” Leo was still chuckling, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Good. Let them sweat.” With that, I hung up. “Lia, the Chairman flew back from Europe. This thing has really blown up,” Leo reported that evening. “Mark has been trying everything to appease the Apex CEO—sending women to his hotel, showering him with gifts—but the guy isn’t biting. He left a final message: he wants to see you within three days, or the deal is off. Then he flew back to the capital. When the Chairman heard Mark couldn’t handle it, he flew straight to the capital himself, presumably to beg for forgiveness.” “Understood. Keep me posted,” I said, lying back on my plush hotel bed and turning on a movie. Vacation was bliss. “Lia, the Chairman is back, and he looks like he’s about to kill someone. The whole office is dead silent. Mark and Vivian look like naughty schoolchildren. They’ve been coming to our office a dozen times a day, trying to get any information about you. They’re in a total panic. You should see the look on Vivian’s face. It’s worse than a funeral.” “Oh, right, the important stuff! The Chairman came to our office too. He said our quarterly bonus has been fully reinstated. It’s already in our accounts. Did you get yours?” “And then… he asked us, almost begged us, if anyone could get in touch with you. Lia, is it time? Is the pot boiling?” “Should we give him your number? I think it’s time to come back. If we really lose the Apex contract, all our hard work will have been for nothing. What do you think?” Leo called again the next morning. “Alright, I’ll call the Chairman now. When I get back, I want to see the look on Vivian’s face.” After hanging up with Leo, I dialed the Chairman’s number. “Lia! You’ve finally surfaced! I was about to have a heart attack!” “I’ve gotten to the bottom of this whole situation. It’s all because of those two idiots, Vivian and Mark. I’ve already given them a severe reprimand.” “Lia, please come back. The Apex project… only you can handle it. Their CEO, Mr. Sterling, will only work with you. If you close this deal, I’ll double your department’s bonus. Two million dollars. What do you say?” The Chairman’s voice was laced with anxiety. “Chairman, I can come back. But this business with Vivian… are we just letting it go?” “Of course not! Her reckless behavior has caused a massive problem for this company. I will punish her severely. And as for how… I’ll let you decide. You call the shots.” “Alright. In that case, I have a few conditions.” “Lia, name your price! Anything you want! Just get back here and lock down this Apex deal. I’ll agree to anything!” The Chairman was truly desperate. The Apex project would bring in over a billion in revenue, with profits in the hundreds of millions. As the owner of the company, he wasn’t about to let that slip through his fingers. “Okay,” I said. “I’m on my way back.” “Chairman, I want a public apology from Vivian Shaw. To me, and to my entire department.”

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I meant to ask my brother for money but texted my boss by mistake. 【Heyyy, big bro~】 Boss: 【?】 Me: 【Can you spare some cash for your sis?】 Boss: 【?】 I panicked and lied: 【My phone’s broken, can’t come to work.】 He sent $500. Me: 【A bit stingy… Going broke?】 Boss: 【?】 Then he sent $5,000. My tone changed: 【Love you! xoxo】 I kept asking him for money occasionally. A month later, I posted online thanking my brother. Then my real brother DM’d me: 【?】 【Channel, am I not your brother anymore?】 【Who’s this imposter?】 【Don’t I give you enough? Or are you leaving?】 I checked my contacts and saw two identical profile pics. Finally, I understood how the monk felt meeting the real and fake Monkey Kings… 1 Fresh out of college, I was quickly initiated into the world of paying to work. Rent, utilities, food, clothes, makeup—every single expense was a major blow to my wallet. After a month of this, I was on the verge of being too broke to even afford my job. Then, I remembered: I have a brother. My brother, Leo, isn’t exactly a looker, but he’s incredibly generous. He’s three years older than me and started his own business while he was still in college. So, by the time I was a student, he was already the owner of a small, successful company. Every month, after getting my three-thousand-dollar allowance from my dad, I’d turn right around and cry poverty to my brother. He’d always send me five thousand, no questions asked. He was more reliable than my dad, whose finances were tightly controlled by my mom. But my brother was single, so who else was he going to spoil but me? With that thought, I confidently hit him up for money again. His profile picture was a solid black square, easy to find. I located it in a second. I had accidentally factory-reset my phone a while back, wiping all my contacts and chat histories. Thankfully, I remembered that my personal ATM had a black profile picture. All our previous transaction records were gone, but no matter. It was time for a new one. 【Heyyy, big bro~】 Black Profile Pic: 【?】 【Something wrong? It’s late.】 It’s been a while since I last asked for money, he’s acting all formal. Looks like I’ll have to ask him for money more often to maintain our sibling bond. Me: 【My dearest big bro~ Spare some change for your little sis.】 Black Profile Pic: 【?】 What’s with all the question marks? He’s usually so quick with the transfers. Is he cutting me off now that I’ve graduated and started working? Not on my watch! I quickly came up with an excuse: 【Bro, my phone broke, I can’t come to work.】 Subtext: I can’t earn money anymore, you have to support me. Then, he sent me five hundred dollars. Me: 【A little stingy, don’t you think? …Are you going broke or something?】 Five hundred? Is he serious? Black Profile Pic: 【?】 The next second, another five thousand dollars came through. My tune changed instantly: 【I knew it! You were just busy and missed a zero~】 【Love you! xoxo】 I want, I get. With the money secured, I went to sleep, content. Completely oblivious to the fact that on the other side of the screen, the man with the black profile picture sat in silence for a long time before finally searching online: 【What does it mean when a new employee asks their boss for money?】 【What does it mean when an employee calls their boss “big bro”?】 【How to maintain a professional subordinate-superior relationship?】 2 Monday morning, company meeting. Our boss, Mr. Sterling, was presenting a PowerPoint, but his eyes kept darting in my direction. The other new hires and I were practically holding our breath. I scribbled in my notebook, pretending to take notes. 【Who do you think Mr. Sterling is looking at?】 New Colleague: 【No idea.】 【But it’s so creepy. His gaze is so intense.】 【None of us have done anything to tick him off, right?】 Me: 【Nope. I’m the newest one here, I haven’t even had the chance to.】 My colleagues exchanged nervous glances, all equally clueless. I thought for a moment: 【Well, bosses are usually a bit weird. It’s probably nothing.】 You have to be a little crazy to be a boss. I’ve heard my brother’s employees complain about him all the time. They call him a ruthless tyrant. For the final part of the meeting, Mr. Sterling added a whole new section to his presentation: “How to Properly Manage Superior-Subordinate Relationships.” “Since we have a batch of new employees who have recently joined us, I’d like to take this opportunity to clarify how to correctly handle the relationship between superiors and subordinates…” Because of this last-minute addition, a two-hour meeting stretched into a four-hour marathon. A colleague whispered, 【Monday meetings are the absolute worst.】 【I thought a young boss wouldn’t be this long-winded…】 Me: 【What is he even talking about? He might as well just give me twenty grand.】 The meeting finally ended with Mr. Sterling’s parting words: “Do not disturb your superiors outside of work hours.” As the painfully long meeting concluded, I stood up to leave. Then, I heard the boss say, “Who’s Channel? Stay behind.” My colleagues shot me a “good luck” look and scurried away. Soon, it was just me and the boss in the empty conference room, staring at each other. Mr. Sterling looked at me for a long time. “So, you’re Channel? I’ll remember that.” I stammered, “Mr. Sterling, is there something you needed?” He cleared his throat. “Did you take in everything I said during the meeting?” Oh, crap, I thought. Is he going to quiz me? I hadn’t heard a single word. But I remained calm, putting on a brave face. “Yes, of course. I took it all in.” I was already planning my escape route: feign dizziness or a sudden muscle spasm. But he didn’t ask me anything. He let out a breath. “Good. As long as you understood.” I seized the opportunity. “Well, if there’s nothing else, sir, I’ll get back to work.” “Mm,” he grunted. I bolted out of there. As he watched me disappear, a muscle in his cheek twitched. Runs fast now, but she wasn’t so shy when she was asking for money last night. She’d better have understood. She’d better keep her distance. I thought being singled out after the meeting was just bad luck, like starting the day off on the wrong foot. I never expected to run into him again at lunch. My luck was just abysmal today. I was in the company cafeteria, happily devouring my lunch. The seat across from me had been a revolving door of colleagues, until finally, Mr. Sterling sat down. “Your phone… looks pretty new,” he commented. I nearly choked on my food. I looked up, and the sight of my boss instantly made my lunch lose its appeal. “Mr…. Mr. Sterling. Hello.” He continued to eye my phone. “Not thinking of getting a new one?” What was that supposed to mean? It’s new, why would I replace it? What was he trying to get at with this small talk? I decided to play along. “Are you offering to buy me one, sir?” Mr. Sterling: “…” He was just trying to make a point, he thought, and now he’s trapped himself. She just keeps taking and taking. But as her boss, he couldn’t exactly say no. Otherwise, she’d start spreading rumors that the company was going under, that he was a cheapskate. After a brief internal struggle, he conceded. “…Alright.” Me: “?” Did I just hear him right? This was too bizarre! Out of all the empty seats, my boss chooses to sit opposite me and then offers to buy me a phone! During my lunch break, I frantically messaged my worldly-wise best friend. Bestie: 【So, he lectures you about professional boundaries in the morning, then asks you to lunch and offers to buy you a phone in the afternoon?】 【He’s speaking in code. His intentions are clear. The man is not giving up!】 Her words sparked a realization. 【You’re saying… he wants to… you know… with me?】 【So that whole speech about professional boundaries was just a load of hypocritical crap!】 【And I thought he was different from other bosses, being so young, handsome, and rich.】 【I can’t believe it…】 Bestie: 【Has he added you on social media? Sent you any creepy messages?】 Me: 【I don’t think he has.】 Even without him adding me, I could already picture his profile picture: some smug guy in a suit. They’re both bosses, why can’t he be more like my brother, with a discreet and mysterious black profile picture? My brother is still the best. I clicked on the black profile picture’s chat again, the transfer records warming my heart. 【Big bro, you’re my savior~】 【I’ll follow you forever!】 Black Profile Pic: 【?】 His replies may be cold. But my brother will always be my rock. 3 I hit up my rock for money every few days. My rock never said a word, just kept sending the money. A month later, my conscience finally kicked in. I posted on my timeline, thanking my brother. I even attached screenshots of all the transfers from the past month. The next second, my actual brother slid into my DMs: 【?】 【Channel, am I not your brother anymore?】 Me: 【?】 Wait a minute… 【Bro, did you change your username?】 My brother: 【I’ve always had this username. Stop changing the subject.】 【Who is this imposter brother you’ve adopted?】 【Do I not give you enough money? Or have you finally decided to fly the coop?】 【You’re asking other people for money?】 Me: 【…】 Other… people?! I frantically searched my chat history, but the chat with the black profile picture was empty. Where did all the transfer records go? Did my phone reset itself again? I exited the chat and saw them. Two identical black profile pictures, side by side in my contact list. It was in that moment that I finally understood the helplessness the monk must have felt when he encountered the real and fake Monkey Kings. I… wait… what… My hand trembling, I clicked on the second black profile picture. All the transfer records from the past month were from him. If you’re my brother, then who is this? The first black profile picture popped up with a new message. 【Channel, answer me.】 I bit my lip. 【How do I know you’re really my brother?】 My brother was so mad he could have laughed. 【…】 【My name is Leo, I’m six-foot-one, and I have a money-guzzling younger sister named Channel.】 【When you were seven, I caught you stealing money from my piggy bank. You denied it and ate the coins.】 【When you were nine, you found out I had a girlfriend and blackmailed me for two thousand dollars.】 【When you were fifteen, you sold me out to your best friend for five hundred bucks.】 Him: 【Need I go on?】 【Or should we just get a DNA test?】 Even through the screen, I could feel my brother Leo’s exasperation. This was definitely my brother. So, the other black profile picture was… Just as I was wondering, the first person to like my post, a colleague, messaged me. 【You’ve been holding out on us…】 【Is it too late to start sucking up to the future boss’s wife?】 I was completely lost. 【Boss’s… wife?】 Colleague: 【Did you forget to block me from your post?】 【I saw all those transfers from Mr. Sterling.】 【Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I just want to be on your good side! If you don’t let me, I’ll… please! Just let me be on your good side!】 I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping this was all a bad dream. I hadn’t blocked anyone from that post. I just wanted to show off my rich, generous brother. But she was saying… the black profile picture was Mr. Sterling? Speak of the devil. Mr. Sterling had also seen the post. He messaged me: 【Delete the post. I’ll give you money.】 He could have fired me, but instead, he offered me money. I quickly deleted the post, thankful that not many people had seen it. Then, a transfer from the black-profile-pictured Mr. Sterling came through. Me: “…” I didn’t delete the post for money! This was a mess I couldn’t get out of. No wonder I’d been feeling like Mr. Sterling was dropping financial hints lately. I thought he was trying to proposition me, but it turns out I was the one shamelessly hitting him up for cash. By day, I avoided him like the plague. By night, I was creatively begging him for money. Turns out, I was the real hypocrite. Now that I understood the mistaken-brother fiasco, I spent the whole night composing and deleting messages, trying to figure out how to explain this to Mr. Sterling. It had been a month. Who mistakes their own brother for a whole month? No one would believe me. And the way I’d been asking for money… he probably thought I was trying to seduce him by calling him “big bro.” He had even asked me a few times if I was “tired of trying.” And I remembered my replies were always along the lines of, 【Yes~ Please take care of me, big bro~】 Who wouldn’t misunderstand that… Forget it. What’s done is done. Might as well just go to sleep. When in doubt, sleep on it. 4 The next morning at the office, my colleague pulled me aside, whispering, “Ms. Woods, you’ll have to look out for me from now on.” She was the only one who had seen my post last night. She even handed me a cup of bubble tea. My heart sank. “If I told you it was all a misunderstanding, a big mix-up, would you believe me?” She beamed. “Of course, of course I believe you!” I’m going to cling to you like my life depends on it. Me: “…” Even an outsider who didn’t know the whole story was convinced. How was I supposed to explain to Mr. Sterling that I really, truly wasn’t trying to sleep my way to the top? I spent the next few days in a daze, consumed by this problem. But before I could come up with a solution, Mr. Sterling came to me. It had been three days, and our chat history was still stuck on the last exchange: him sending me money for deleting the post, which I hadn’t accepted. Mr. Sterling: 【Are you there?】 【Why didn’t you accept the money I sent you?】 【Was it not enough?】 I pretended to be offline. A few minutes later, another five thousand dollars came through. The bright orange of the transfer notification was testing my resolve. I quickly rejected it. Mr. Sterling: 【?】 My Bluetooth speaker was coincidentally playing a sad, romantic ballad. An idea struck me. 【Mr. Sterling, can we just pretend that none of this ever happened?】 A funeral for our love, burying all the memories of you. Burying the memory of the stupid mistakes I made last month. Me: 【I’ll pay you back all the money. From now on, you’ll be my boss, and I’ll be just another insignificant employee.】 I calculated the total amount he’d sent me over the past month. I’d already spent most of it. I quickly borrowed over thirty thousand from my actual brother. Then, I transferred it to Mr. Sterling. Mr. Sterling: 【?】 I let out a breath. That should settle things, right? If I couldn’t explain the past, I could at least clear the debt. Me: 【Don’t worry, sir. I won’t bother you for money anymore.】 【I don’t know what came over me before. Please forgive me.】 Mr. Sterling didn’t reply. I thought that was the end of it. Little did I know, after I fell asleep, my phone was flooded with messages. When I woke up the next morning and saw 99+ notifications from Mr. Sterling, I nearly fainted.

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I’ve always been a bit slow on the uptake. So when my biological parents finally brought me home, and the girl who had taken my place, Lila, rushed to greet me with a syrupy smile, I didn’t quite get it. “Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, her eyes wide with fake sympathy. “You must have suffered so much. Why don’t you take my room? It’s the biggest one.” My parents gazed at Lila, their eyes filled with admiration for her generosity. I, on the other hand, started nodding frantically. “Okay! Great! I love big rooms. I’ll help you move.” The moment the words left my mouth, the entire room went silent. Lila’s expression was unreadable, a shadow passing over her face. 1 The moment I stepped into my real family’s home, Lila, the imposter daughter, was there with a welcoming smile, eager to give me a tour. “This is my bedroom,” she announced, gesturing grandly. “And this is my study, and that’s my music room. And over there is my brother’s room.” She paused, feigning disappointment. “Oh, dear. It seems the only space left is the little storage closet.” She glanced over at our parents. My mother wrung her hands. “Stella, dear, the house is a little crowded right now, maybe you could just…” Lila cut her off, her voice ringing with false magnanimity. “Stella, you’ve had it so hard all these years. Please, take my room. It’s the least I can do.” At her words, my parents beamed at her, their pride obvious. My own eyes lit up. I nodded so hard my head bobbed. “Okay! Great! I’d love the big room. Here, I’ll help you pack.” The air went still. Everyone just stared. A flicker of something dark crossed Lila’s face before she smoothed it away. I dropped my backpack and suitcase and immediately started gathering her things. Lila’s eyes welled up with tears as she turned to our parents, her voice trembling. “Mom, won’t she be scared, all alone in a room that big?” My mother, catching her drift, hurried over and grabbed my arm. “Stella, there are plenty of other rooms. Why don’t you pick a different one?” I stopped what I was doing and turned to face them. “But you said the only thing left was the storage closet.” I looked at Lila, my head tilted. “Wait… does this mean you don’t want me to have the room after all?” Both of our parents’ heads snapped towards Lila. A blush crept up her neck, and she frowned, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit her generosity was a sham. “No, I… that’s not what I meant,” she stammered. A wide smile spread across my face, revealing two dimples. “Mom, she already offered. She can’t take it back now. Could you please move? You’re in my way.” Lila stood frozen in the doorway, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Seeing her cry, my mother’s own eyes started to redden with sympathy. I didn’t pay them any mind. I just rolled up my sleeves and got back to work. In no time at all, I had all her things packed up. I pointed to the tiny closet at the end of the hall. “So, are your things going in there?” Lila gritted her teeth, shot me a venomous glare, and stormed downstairs without a word. I couldn’t figure out why she was so upset. But I’ve always been a helpful person, so I moved all of her belongings into the storage closet for her. Later that evening, my brother, Leo, came home. The second she saw him, Lila threw herself into his arms and burst into sobs. “Leo, she took my room! She just… she took it!” His brow furrowed instantly. He looked over at me, his eyes filled with murder. 2 Seeing Leo, I stood up and politely greeted him. “Hello, brother.” His face was a mask of ice. “I only have one sister, and it’s Lila. Don’t call me that.” My eyes widened in shock. “Oh? Are you not their real son either?” Leo stared at me for a second, then his face twisted with rage. “Stella, what the hell are you talking about?” “Don’t think for a second that just because you share their blood, you can replace Lila. Blood doesn’t make you family.” Lila peeked up at him, a triumphant little smile on her face. “Oh, Leo. You’re the only one who really cares about me.” I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that’s true. Her biological father was executed, so he can’t exactly be family anymore. And her mom’s in prison, but I guess she has a chance if she ever gets out.” As soon as I said it, both Lila and Leo froze. Lila’s face went deathly pale. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed into Leo’s arms. “Lila!” Leo’s shout echoed through the house. I rushed over and started patting Lila’s cheeks, trying to find a pressure point to revive her, but nothing worked. My parents came running down the stairs. “What happened to Lila?” Leo, cradling her in his arms, shot me a look of pure hatred and shoved me to the ground. “This is all Stella’s fault. If anything happens to Lila, I’ll never forgive you.” He then stormed out the door with her in his arms. My parents glared at me. “Stella,” my father demanded, “what happened? Why did she just faint like that?” I looked down, my face a picture of guilt. “I’m sorry. I mentioned her biological father who was executed and her mother who’s in prison. I think she fainted from missing them so much.” My mother looked at me in horror, stumbling back until she collapsed onto the sofa. Tears began to fall. “You… how could you say those things to her?” I blinked, confused. “What? Are you not supposed to talk about it?” 3 By the time we got to the hospital, Lila was already awake, crying dramatically in her hospital bed as Leo held her. “Don’t be silly,” he was saying, stroking her hair. “You’re my real sister. Stella is just some orphan they dragged back from the countryside. As soon as she’s eighteen, I’ll have Mom and Dad send her away.” Lila looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy. “Really, Leo?” He smiled. “When have I ever lied to you?” The moment she saw us, Lila scrambled out of bed and fell to her knees in front of me. “Stella, I’m so sorry! I never knew my birth parents were the ones who hurt you! I’m so, so sorry. Please, just hit me!” With that, she grabbed my hand and slapped it against her own face. Leo’s furious shout ripped through the air. “Stella, what are you doing?!” I just stood there, my mind a complete blank. All I could see was Lila’s mother. Martha. Martha used to do the exact same thing. I was a child, and if I drank a whole bowl of porridge, she would grab my hand and force me to hit her with it. “You ate all that? Are you trying to starve me to death? Go on, just kill me now!” The second my small hand touched her cheek, she would fly into a rage, screaming. “I feed you, and this is how you repay me? You worthless little stray!” Then she’d grab a bamboo cane and beat me until I passed out. If I ever displeased her, it was the same routine: she’d make me hit her, and then she’d beat me senseless. I was covered in bruises every single day. A teacher reported her to the police once. That just made the beating I got when I came home even worse. It wasn’t until the police came from another state that I learned the truth: I wasn’t her daughter at all. She was arrested, but she never told them where she’d stolen me from. The police had no choice but to put me in an orphanage. Now, in the hospital room, Lila was sobbing, forcing my hand against her face. “Hit me! Just kill me! It’s all my fault!” I snapped. I grabbed her by the hair, and in a blind rage, I started slapping her, again and again. For all those years, all I had ever wanted was to kill Martha. But she was in prison. Lila’s screams filled the hospital corridor. My parents and Leo rushed to pull me off her, but I was surprisingly strong. No one could stop me. I didn’t stop until her face was swollen and purple. Then, the world went dark, and I fainted. As I was coming to, I vaguely heard a doctor’s voice. “Stella is suffering from Severe Emotional Detachment Disorder. She can’t handle being provoked like that. Were you aware of this?” “Doctor, what is that?” “It’s a psychological injury caused by long-term exposure to a hostile environment and severe trauma.” “But… she seems so cheerful all the time.” The doctor sighed heavily. “That’s what makes it so dangerous.” My parents were silent. My brother stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “I knew she was faking it. Mental illness is just an excuse. I only trust science. She’s probably just making it up to get rid of Lila. Don’t fall for it.” With that, he turned and left. 4 I was woken by a gentle voice. “Stella, sweetie, wake up and have something to eat.” My mother was sitting by my bed, her eyes holding an expression I couldn’t quite decipher. The bowl of porridge she offered me made my stomach churn. But I was starving. I took it and slurped down half of it before placing it back on the nightstand. “Are you full already?” I shook my head. “No. Martha never let me finish a whole bowl. I’d get beaten otherwise.” My mother looked at the half-eaten porridge, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Stella. You’ve suffered so much.” I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s okay! It was no big deal, really.” The moment we got home, Leo blocked my path. “Stella, Lila is a simple, kind-hearted person. I want you to stay away from her. Don’t cause any more trouble.” He paused. “If you do that, I can try to accept you as my sister.” My mother’s face hardened. “Leo, how dare you speak to your sister like that. Lila was in the wrong here too. She provoked Stella.” My father chimed in. “What happened yesterday is in the past. From now on, you will treat your real sister with respect. Do you understand?” Seeing my parents defending me, Leo clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with resentment. But I just smiled cheerfully. “Okay! How far away? Is three feet enough?” My parents looked at me, their faces etched with guilt. “Stella, you don’t have to…” Leo muttered under his breath, “Let’s see how long you can keep up this act,” before stalking away. At dinner, Lila and I met at the table. She looked at me timidly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Leo stood beside her, guarding her as if I were a wolf. I quietly picked up my plate and, under everyone’s watchful eyes, sat down at the far end of the long dining table, maintaining my distance from Lila. The housekeeper came over. “Miss, can you reach the food from here?” I smiled. “Nope.” Everyone froze, unsure whether to eat or not. 5 My mother stood up and walked over to me. “Stella, dear, won’t you come sit closer?” My father put down his chopsticks. “Stella, come here and eat properly.” I looked up, glanced at Lila, and said earnestly, “But Leo told me to stay away from her. I can’t.” Lila’s face fell, her expression a mask of pure anguish. “It’s all my fault. I’ll go. Then Stella can eat.” She made a show of getting up. She looked around, but neither of our parents tried to stop her. She shot me a hateful glare and stormed off. I immediately grinned, picked up my plate, and moved to her empty seat. “She’s gone! I can eat up here now.” Leo shot to his feet, his face dark with fury. He strode over and slapped the plate out of my hands. “You drove Lila away. Are you happy now? Does your return mean she doesn’t even get to eat in this house anymore?” I watched as the perfectly cooked grains of rice scattered across the floor. Tears sprang to my eyes. “You can’t waste food! If you waste food, they feed you to the dogs!” When I was seven, I accidentally spilled a bowl of thin rice gruel. Martha made me lick it off the dirty floor. I was terrified, but I did it, cutting my tongue on a piece of broken ceramic. The taste of blood filled my mouth. For a second, I felt a strange thrill, wondering if this was how I would finally die. But I didn’t. Martha then dragged me to the village dog keeper’s yard and threw me into a kennel with a pack of vicious dogs. They tore at me, leaving me bloody and mangled. The family only saved me when they heard my screams. When they brought me back, Martha was cracking sunflower seeds, barely glancing at me. “Still not dead, huh? Just a little punishment to teach her not to waste food.” … Now, I scrambled on the floor, trying to scoop the rice back into my hands, ignoring the sharp fragments of the plate that cut into my palms. The metallic tang of blood was on my tongue again. It was a taste that was both terrifying and strangely comforting. My mother ran to me, her eyes red, and pulled me into a hug. “Stella, no, it’s on the floor. Don’t eat it, please don’t eat it…” Leo stared at me, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Stella, you…” My father walked over and slapped him hard across the face. “Stella is your sister. Apologize to her. Now.” Leo’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

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I was the girl next door. Chloe Reed was the girl who fell from the sky. They say the girl next door never stands a chance against the one who comes out of nowhere. Not long after she transferred, someone saw them in the empty stairwell after school. They said that Jackson King—my Jax, the boy who bowed to no one—was standing there with his head down like a chastened puppy, listening to her lecture him. Later, when Chloe and I had a falling out, all it took was a quiet word from him: “I don’t want to see Aubrey Hale at this school again.” My parents, terrified of jeopardizing their business with the King family, had me transferred by the end of the week. After that, I vanished from his world. I didn’t dare even show my face where he might see it. But then, on his birthday, he showed up at my door, drenched by the rain, his face a wreck of misery and hurt. “Did you forget?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Did you forget it was my birthday?” 01 They say the girl who’s been there forever can’t compete with the girl who shows up out of the blue. I used to scoff at that. But then I sat in the school auditorium, watching Jackson’s eyes follow Chloe Reed as she danced across the stage, and I saw it. The unfiltered adoration. The love he couldn’t hide. In that moment, I believed it. And I finally believed the rumors, the ones about the untouchable Jax King, the king of Crestwood High, letting this new girl put him in his place in a deserted stairwell. The confession I’d held in my heart, the one I was always waiting for the right moment to share, would have to stay buried there forever. When the music ended, I applauded with the rest of the crowd, my hands moving mechanically as the girl on stage took a glittering bow. Jax stood up and headed for the wings, undoubtedly to find her. I stood up, too, and walked out of the auditorium. Outside, the evening air was cool. I raised my hand, letting the little wooden star charm he gave me years ago dance in the breeze. “Aubrey… for you.” I looked at the crudely carved star in his palm. “What is it?” Seven-year-old Jax had been watching some soap opera with his aunt and had learned a new phrase. “It’s a promise,” he’d said, his cheeks pink. “You have to wear it. It means you have to like me best, forever.” “And I’ll always protect you, Aubrey.” My eyes stung with the memory. I closed my fist around the charm. A kid’s promise. It’s not supposed to mean anything. But I’d let it mean everything. Jax King, the boy who broke rules and hearts with equal impunity, was the secret joy and the central truth of my entire youth. … Chloe Reed had transferred in at the start of the semester. She was beautiful, a trained dancer, and her arrival was an event. The girls in my class immediately cast her in their imaginary high school drama. She was the perfect transfer student protagonist—the quiet, talented girl who catches the eye of the school’s resident bad boy. The bad boy who would, inevitably, tame himself for her. A lot of guys tried to ask Chloe out. Someone even joked that the only one left was Jax. Jax, lounging at his desk, had stretched languidly and shot the guy a look of pure disdain. “Her? Is that a joke?” See? That’s how untouchable he’d seemed. I never really believed the rumors about them, because I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Because he’d never said the words to me, never told me he was with someone else. But now I knew. It was time to pull back, to put a real, measurable distance between us. For years, I’d always walked home with Jax. I can’t remember exactly when it started, but recently he always had some excuse for me to go on ahead. He could have just told me the truth. I wouldn’t have made a scene. I wouldn’t have clung to him. After all, we were never really together in the first place. 02 On Sunday evening, we had study hall, and homework was due. Jax was the kind of student who, when asked for his assignment, would just give the TA a blank look and say, “Didn’t do it.” He used to listen to me, though. Everyone knew it. So whenever he’d pull that stunt, they’d come and complain to me. That’s what happened tonight, except no one could even find him. He’d slipped out after the last bell, probably to find Chloe. “Aubrey, Jax didn’t turn in his homework again, and he’s not in his seat. Can you…” “Just hand in what you have,” I said, offering a small, tight smile. “From now on, you don’t need to tell me about his homework.” My classmate just nodded, his expression confirmation that the rumors about Jax having a girlfriend must be true. My detached tone was all the proof he needed. When class resumed, I bent over my test prep book. Before Chloe, my plan was for Jax and me to go to Northwood University together. Now, the plan was just for me to work my ass off and get into Northwood. For my own dream. Jax didn’t come back for the entire period. The teacher on duty frowned from her desk at the front of the room and asked where he was. Every head in the classroom turned to look at me. I kept my eyes on my paper, refusing to acknowledge them. He finally reappeared during the second period, sliding into his seat without a word. A moment later, a classmate leaned over and told him the principal wanted to see him in his office. Jax seemed to snap out of a daze. As he walked past my desk, he paused for a fraction of a second. I didn’t look up. I was wrestling with the final problem on a math worksheet, the kind where I could solve the first part but my brain would freeze on the second. After I finally figured it out, my deskmate, Maya, leaned over. “Hey, is everything okay with you and Jax?” she whispered. “Everything’s fine.” “Really? Because you used to get more worked up than anyone when he skipped class or blew off his homework.” I flinched. She was right. “That was then,” I said, my voice flatter than I intended. “I’m not going to bother with his stuff anymore.” “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide as she put the pieces together. “So it’s true… about him and Chloe Reed?” I looked down, saying nothing. The final bell rang, and a few minutes later, Jax ambled back into the room. A folded piece of paper landed on my desk. I opened it. Go home without me. I stared at the familiar scrawl, then calmly folded the note and tucked it away before returning to my work. The classroom was a chaotic swirl of noise and motion as everyone packed up. I took my time, organizing my binder. Suddenly, a hush fell over the room. Maya gasped, and I followed her gaze to the doorway. Chloe Reed was standing there. She tilted her head, gave Jax a little come-hither crook of her finger, and then turned and walked away. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at Jax. A helpless, almost tender smile spread across his face as he grabbed his backpack and followed her out. The second he was gone, the classroom erupted. “Holy crap, so it’s real.” “Wow. I always thought he and Aubrey were endgame. You know, the bad boy and the good girl. But I guess the bad boy and the dancer… that kind of fits better, you know?” “Don’t be an ass. Does anyone else feel kind of bad for Aubrey?” “They’ve known each other their whole lives.” “See? The girl next door never wins.” … Maya was looking at me, her expression full of pity she was trying to hide. I slung my backpack over my shoulder. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, but I forced a smile. I would not cry. Not here. I couldn’t let them see how much it hurt. If I did, I’d be the butt of their jokes for the rest of the year. “I’m fine,” I told Maya, meeting her worried eyes. “Jax and I have only ever been friends. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Okay… See you tomorrow. Get home safe.” Once I was out of the noisy school building, I gripped the straps of my backpack, my knuckles white. I bit down on my lip, hard. But the tears came anyway, hot and silent, blurring the streetlights. A heavy, aching pressure built in my chest. How could he just… start liking someone else? Out of nowhere? My vision swam. In my ears, I could hear a boy’s voice, clear and cocky, from a lifetime ago. “Don’t worry, Aubrey. I can do anything. And I’ve got you. For life.” 03 “Aubrey, why didn’t you wait for me this morning?” Jax had been late to school. He cornered me after first period, his tone laced with a playful grievance as he placed a carton of milk on my desk. My hand, busy scribbling vocabulary words, paused. I glanced at the milk. “I already had breakfast,” I said. “And I’m not going to walk with you anymore. I’m getting to school earlier from now on.” He slid into the empty seat beside me, looking genuinely confused. He propped his chin on his hand. “Did I do something to piss you off? We’ve always walked together.” “It’s different now.” I set down my pen and took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. “You have a girlfriend, Jax. We need some distance.” His expression froze for a second before realization dawned. “She won’t care. She knows about you…” “I care.” I enunciated each word clearly. “I don’t want to be the target when you two eventually have a fight about something. I don’t want to be the problem.” “Aubrey…” Jax King was not known for his patience. The fact that he’d even let the conversation go this long was a minor miracle. I could see his was running out. His face hardened. He shot up from the chair, the legs screeching against the linoleum, a sound that grated on my already raw nerves. “Fine,” he bit out. “Whatever you want.” Then he was gone. I lowered my head, closing my eyes against the sudden burn. I’d spent all of last night on my balcony, letting the cold air whip at me, debating what to do. Should I keep playing the fool, pretending I was just his friend while hiding this suffocating crush? Or was it time to let our lifelong connection finally fracture? They say you can’t hide the way you look at someone you love. If I kept following him around, it wouldn’t be fair to me, and it wouldn’t be fair to Chloe. No girlfriend on earth wants her boyfriend’s overly close “girl-best-friend” hanging around. From that day on, Jax didn’t speak to me. If we passed in the hall, his eyes slid right over me as if I were a stranger. The girl by his side was no longer me; it was Chloe. He introduced her to his entire circle of friends, the world that had once been ours. She was his first love. The girl he was crazy about. I focused on my studies. Like everyone else, I heard the stories of their epic romance through the grapevine. Chloe was starving herself for a dance competition, and Jax had his family’s personal chef make her low-fat, high-protein meals to bring to school. A jock from a rival school wouldn’t stop harassing Chloe, cornering her in an alley after school. Rumor was, Jax beat him so badly he ended up in the hospital. On the next monthly exams, I reclaimed my spot as first in our class. My guidance counselor once told me to stop worrying so much about Jax, that he was dragging down my academic potential. The Kings had more money than God; it didn’t matter if Jax graduated or not. That afternoon, I stared out the window at the spectacular sunset. “Aubrey, where do you want to go for college?” It was a hot evening last summer. Jax was sitting next to me, idly twirling a strand of my hair around his long finger. “Northwood University,” I’d said without hesitation. “That’s so far.” I never told him the real reason. It wasn’t just because Northwood was a top-tier school. It was because I had to get away from here. Away from that house. My father was a cliché. The second he made money, he found a new woman. My mother refused to divorce him, convinced it was her fault for not giving him a son. In the dead of night, she would sometimes break down, pointing a shaking finger at me and screaming, asking why I couldn’t have been a boy, then her husband would have stayed faithful. She finally did have a son. My father’s return to the family was brief. And once my little brother was born, my mother poured every ounce of herself into him. She had her son now, her security for old age. “Okay… then I’ll go to Northwood too,” the boy beside me had boasted. “You’re such a klutz, you’ll be a mess without me there to look out for you.” That cocky, grinning boy was the only light in my broken world. I was desperate to hold onto him. I was willing to waste all my time on him, to sacrifice my own ambitions. Even if I didn’t get into Northwood, as long as I got into whatever school he did, that would be enough. 04 A rumor started spreading that Chloe was a homewrecker who had stolen Jax from me. Coming back from the restroom with Maya, I saw Chloe run past me down the stairs, her face buried in her hands, sobbing. A second later, Jax came storming up the steps. He saw me, and his face contorted with rage. He lunged forward and slammed me against the wall, his hand closing around my throat. “I thought you wanted to stay away from me, Aubrey,” he snarled, his face inches from mine. “What the hell is this?” I clawed at his hand, my lungs burning. Maya rushed forward, trying to push him off. “Are you insane? We were just in the bathroom! Let her go, you’re choking her!” Jax flinched back as if he’d been burned, snatching his hand away. I slid down the wall, gasping, sucking in ragged breaths of air. “You’re pathetic, Aubrey,” he spat down at me. “Aubrey, are you okay?” I stayed crouched on the floor, coughing, tears streaming down my face. Maya wrapped an arm around me, rubbing my back. “It’s okay, Aubrey. I don’t know what’s wrong with him and his crazy girlfriend.” I wiped my eyes, biting my lip to keep from sobbing aloud. The look on his face… it was pure hatred. For a second, I thought he was actually going to kill me. The boy I knew was gone. Completely and utterly gone. Later, a classmate cautiously slid a phone under my desk. Someone had posted an anonymous message on the Crestwood Confessions page, accusing Chloe of being the “other woman” who broke up Jax and me. Everyone believed it. The comment section was a cesspool of slut-shaming, each insult more vicious than the last. When I got home that evening, I planned to immediately send a message to the page administrator to clear Chloe’s name. The red marks on my neck were already bruising. But I never got the chance. I walked into my house to find my parents sitting on the living room sofa, their faces like thunder. They were waiting for me. My stomach dropped. I knew this wasn’t good. A glass flew past my head and shattered against the wall behind me. “What did you do to piss off Jackson King?” my father roared, slamming his fist on the coffee table. “Do you have any idea how much of our business depends on the Kings? Are you trying to ruin me?” I just stood there as my mother’s shrill voice joined in, calling me a useless, money-draining curse. My father told me I was going to go over there and apologize to Jax. Right now. The house was cold, but I was shivering from a chill that came from deep inside. I don’t remember how the screaming match ended, only that I was bundled out the door and marched to the Kings’ front porch. I had a speech prepared. I was going to tell him I didn’t write the post, but that I would get it taken down. But the door swung open, and he was standing there, looking down at me from the top of the steps, his eyes like chips of ice. The words died in my throat. I lowered my head. I bowed. And I apologized. He just stared at me blankly, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t want to see you at school anymore, Aubrey.”

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1 To settle a bet, I went undercover as an intern at my husband Vincent’s company. On the first day, a woman waved a marriage certificate at the front desk, sneering, “I’m the real Mrs. Aronsohn! Why are you slouching? Keep your head down till Vincent gets here!” She even insulted the cafeteria food and threatened to replace it with a Michelin chef. A scared colleague pulled me back. “That’s Isabelle Ferrari—Vincent’s idol. He proposed 99 times before she said yes. Cross her, and you’ll disappear.” I almost laughed. I called my brother: “Bring Vincent down here with divorce papers. In five minutes, I want him on his knees begging me.” It was my first day as an intern. I was standing by the reception desk, about to head to HR to report for duty, when a woman in a designer power suit stormed in. She slammed a crimson document folder onto the marble countertop. “New intern? No wonder you have no manners!” she snapped, her eyes locking onto me. “Are you trying to hide your face behind that stack of files, or do you just find me offensive to look at? Put them down! Stand up straight, hands by your sides!” Following the intern handbook to the letter, I lowered my head slightly. “Good morning. How may I help you?” I asked, my voice flat. That simple greeting was like a spark to a fuse. She stalked over to me, her voice shrilling. “What is wrong with this place? Does HR hire blind people now?” She tapped my intern ID badge. “Look at this certificate. Now look at your pathetic little badge. What part of that equation makes you think you have the right to speak to me? Address me as Mrs. Aronsohn!” The girl interning with me went pale. She tugged frantically at my sleeve and rushed to bow her head. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Aronsohn! She’s new, she doesn’t know the rules. Please, don’t be angry!” Isabelle let out a contemptuous snort, rolled her eyes, and strode directly into Vincent’s private office. The other intern hurried to my side, whispering, “Her name is Isabelle Ferrari. She’s Vincent’s old flame, the one he cherishes most. Don’t ever cross her. All she has to do is whisper in his ear at night, and we won’t even make it past our probation period.” I was taken aback. There was only one copy of Vincent Aronsohn’s marriage certificate. And it was supposed to be resting quietly in the safe in our apartment. Why would he allow this woman, this Isabelle, to parade a fake certificate around his company and act like she owned the place? I pushed the question down. For now, my priority was to complete my internship and observe Vincent’s management skills. This was also the perfect opportunity to see just how far he would let this self-proclaimed Mrs. Aronsohn go. The moment the lunch break began, Isabelle buzzed the administrative department’s internal line. I picked it up. Her piercing voice crackled through the receiver. “I need a hand-ground coffee. Jamaican Blue Mountain. Water at exactly 185 degrees. Bring it to my office. Now.” I went to the break room immediately, but hand-grinding the company’s premium beans took time. I was delayed by five minutes. Just five minutes. It was enough for her to fly into a rage. When I rushed to her with the coffee, she swatted it out of my hand. “Is everyone in your department dead? Look at the clock! You are five minutes past the optimal drinking window! Do you have any idea how much the flavor profile degrades with that temperature drop?” The hot liquid splashed across the back of my hand, a searing wave of heat. “If my mood is ruined because of this, can you bear the responsibility?” she shrieked. Every head in the administrative office turned to stare at me. Isabelle might have been dressed impeccably, her makeup flawless, but her vicious, cutting tone made everyone in the room flinch. I struggled to maintain my composure. “Ms. Ferrari, I apologize. Hand-grinding coffee takes time.” She snatched the cup from my other hand and, without a flicker of hesitation, flung the rest of the scorching coffee at me. “With your clumsy, fumbling hands, I have no idea how you even got a job at the Aronsohn Corporation,” she spat. “I bet you pulled some rather unsavory favors, didn’t you?” Her voice dripped with venom. “You disgusting thing. Pack your bags. You’re fired.” My nails dug into my palms, the sting of the burn mixing with a surge of white-hot anger. Just as I was about to retaliate, the department head rushed over, physically shielding me. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Ferrari! She’s new, I apologize on her behalf! Please, don’t upset yourself. It’s not worth risking your health over such a trivial matter!” As she spoke, she gripped my arm, her voice a desperate hiss in my ear. “Bite your tongue! Don’t do anything rash! Think about who she is! Our entire department’s year-end bonuses will be gone! She’s not worth it! Let me handle this!” Seeing the supervisor grovel, Isabelle’s twisted features finally relaxed into a smug satisfaction. She languidly pulled a wet wipe from her purse to clean her fingers. “Hmph. At least the supervisor has some sense.” Her tone was dripping with arrogance. “Come on. I’m taking you all to inspect the cafeteria.” Inspect the cafeteria? What right did an outsider have to inspect the company’s internal facilities? “Ms. Ferrari, the company has strict regulations for the cafeteria. Non-employees are not permitted entry…” I began, unable to stop myself. Before I could finish, my supervisor yanked my arm again. “Don’t you get it? She’s the apple of his eye,” she whispered fiercely. “You can cross Mr. Aronsohn and maybe survive, but if you cross her, you won’t even know what hit you.” “He spoils her rotten! The rumor around the company is that she is the true mistress of the Aronsohn Corporation! Our jobs are in her hands. You’re still an intern, don’t throw your career away!” The mistress of the Aronsohn Corporation? As the actual wife, this was news to me. Seeing me frozen in place, Isabelle assumed I was terrified and let out a derisive laugh. “Oh? What’s this? You hear Mr. Aronsohn’s name and you’re too scared to move?” “Let me tell you something. A man like Vincent Aronsohn is completely out of your league. You’re a bottom-feeder intern. One word from him, and you’ll be blacklisted from this entire industry. Understand?” In the brief moment of my silence, Isabelle had already swaggered into the employee cafeteria. “My God, what is this garbage you people eat?” she exclaimed, pinching a piece of braised pork from a tray with two fingers before dropping it in disgust. Then, she pulled a thermal lunch box from her Hermès bag and slammed it on the serving counter. “Seeing as you poor things have probably never eaten anything decent, I’ll be generous. Today’s my treat. A taste of a world-class truffle and lobster bisque to spice up your lunch!” She opened the container and was about to pour its contents into the communal food vat. “Ms. Ferrari! Absolutely not!” The cafeteria manager, finally having seen enough, rushed to block the vat. “Ma’am, we have strict food safety protocols. No outside food can be mixed with employee meals. This is for everyone’s health and safety! Please cooperate!” “Protocols? Safety?” Isabelle laughed as if it were the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “You think my food is less safe than this swill you cook in recycled grease? Do you know this container of bisque costs more than your entire year’s salary?” “Now get out of my way!” The manager stood his ground. “Ms. Ferrari, this is a matter of principle! If there’s any kind of food safety incident, we can’t bear that responsibility! Please don’t make this difficult for us!” Seeing the manager dare to defy her again, Isabelle’s face clouded over with fury. She whipped out her phone and started a video call. “Vincent, you have to see this! Your employees are out of control! I just wanted to do something nice for everyone, and they’re shouting at me!” From the other end of the line, Vincent’s gentle voice emerged. “Isabelle, sweetheart, don’t be angry. Pass the phone to the cafeteria manager.” Isabelle smugly shoved the phone screen in the manager’s face. Vincent’s voice instantly turned to ice. “Everyone involved is to apologize to Ms. Ferrari immediately. Otherwise, every single one of you will be disciplined for gross misconduct. I’m docking this month’s pay and bonuses for all of you! And I mean it!” The manager’s lips trembled. The supervisor and a few other colleagues went pale, exchanging helpless glances. Vincent seemed displeased with the silence. His voice grew colder. “What? Do I need to repeat myself?” The video feed jostled. Isabelle had turned the camera to show Vincent’s surroundings, wanting us to see exactly where he was. He was in the private room of an exclusive club, surrounded by several older men. It was clearly a critical business dinner. Vincent was at the head of the table. Seeing Isabelle’s pouting face, he shook his head with a resigned fondness, not a trace of annoyance at being interrupted, only indulgent affection. “Vincent…” Isabelle whined, completely ignoring the fact that he was in a meeting, and began to cry for the camera. “Look at them, they’re all ganging up on me. I was just trying to be kind, and they were so rude. They’ve trampled all over my good intentions! Vincent, you have to stand up for me!” She squeezed out a few crocodile tears, a complete transformation from the arrogant tyrant of a moment ago. Vincent’s expression hardened instantly. He didn’t even bother to ask for context; his entire focus was on Isabelle. “There, there, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup. It’s such a small thing, is it worth getting so upset? Hmm? I’m here. No one gets to bully you.” He soothed her gently before his eyes lifted to look at us, his tone dropping to absolute zero. “Are you all deaf?” “I am ordering you to do as Isabelle says! Apologize! Now!” “If I don’t see you complying in three seconds…” Before he could finish his threat, I walked directly in front of the phone. My face, along with the red, scalded skin on the back of my hand, appeared sharp and clear on the screen. “Vincent Aronsohn,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Are you sure you want me to be the one to apologize?”

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After just eight hours on a train, I woke to a world fifteen years in the future. My wife, who once sold trinkets on the street, was now CEO of the Astra Group. Yet, I couldn’t call her. Because on the day I boarded that train—our anniversary—I saw her with her first love. “Your parents passed away ten years ago,” an officer said gently. Passed away? I’d just spoken to them yesterday. Swallowing my grief, I gave him her number. “The number is no longer in service,” he said, pity in his eyes. Then I leapt up, pointing at a skyscraper’s digital billboard. “That’s my wife! She can come for me!” The entire station fell silent, every officer staring at me. 1 It was a story straight out of science fiction, but staring at the bustling police precinct and the forest of gleaming towers outside, I had to accept the impossible truth. Me, and everyone else on that train, had traveled through time. “Is it… is it really 2025?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Yes, sir. It’s October 1st, 2025.” The young officer handling my case looked at me with a profound sense of sympathy. My eyes scanned the chaotic room. There were over three hundred of us from that train, all being processed, all giving statements. At first, none of us believed the police, just as they hadn’t believed us. We all looked the same as when we’d boarded. How could a single night have stolen fifteen years? But the proof was undeniable—the futuristic IDs, the technology that was like something out of a movie. We had no choice but to accept reality. “So, besides your parents, is there anyone else we can call to come pick you up?” On the verge of a complete breakdown, I’d instinctively recited Ava’s number. The moment it left my lips, I regretted it. The woman who had promised to love me for a lifetime had already betrayed our marriage. “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service…” No longer in service. Of course. She must have disconnected it, started a new life with Ethan. A sharp, unexpected pain seized my heart, a brutal ache that stole my breath. In this time, a person could be declared legally dead after being missing for three years, their spouse free to remarry. I’d been gone for fifteen. “Sir, if there’s really no one who can come for you, we’ll have to…” “Her! She can get me!” I shouted, pointing at the hundred-foot screen outside. Ava was up there, wrapped in an elegant white dress. The faint scar on her forehead was still visible—a souvenir from our junior year of high school, when she’d taken a beer bottle to the head protecting me from some punks. Back then, she was a firecracker, a tomboy with a chip on her shoulder who radiated a “don’t mess with me” aura. She was gloriously chaotic, and besides me, no guy could get near her. The woman on that screen, poised and graceful, was like a different person entirely. I suppose this new Ava was a better match for Ethan. The hell-raiser finally tamed by her cool, unattainable dream guy. But why the hell did that make me, the husband, feel like the other man? That’s why I refused to call anyone else. I wanted Ava to come. I wanted to crash into their perfect life, to be a thorn in their side, to make them as sick as they’d made me. They had let me bask in the warm glow of a happy marriage, only to force me to watch it all burn down. “Are you… are you sure, sir?” the officer asked, his voice laced with concern. At the same time, a hush fell over the precinct. Every officer paused, their gazes fixed on me. I saw it all in their eyes: mockery, disbelief, and a flicker of envy. It confirmed my suspicion. Ava hadn’t just done well for herself; she was a titan. You don’t get your face on a screen that big unless you own the damn city. “I’m sure,” I said, my voice firm. “The day I got on that train, she was my legal wife.” My certainty was enough. The officer got to work. Getting in touch with this new, powerful Ava wasn’t easy. It took a flurry of calls, supervisors, and an entire hour before a connection was finally made. But the voice on the other end wasn’t hers. 2 “Hello, you’ve reached the office of the CEO of Astra Group. How may I help you?” Astra. My middle name. Why would she name her company after me? Could it be… that she still had feelings for me? “Hello, this is the City Police Department. We need to speak with Ms. Ava regarding a personal matter. Please transfer the call.” The line clicked and beeped. Ten seconds felt like a decade. When a familiar voice finally came through, my heart leaped into my throat. “Hello?” What if she was disgusted to see me? What if she and Ethan were married, with kids? Suddenly, this act of defiance felt like a terrible, terrible mistake. “Is this Ms. Ava, ma’am? This is the police,” the officer said. “It is. What can I do for you?” I dug my nails into my palms, holding my breath, my shoulders slumped as I pretended not to listen, even though every fiber of my being was focused on that phone call. “Ma’am, I know this is going to sound incredible, but we need you to trust us. We’ve located Mr. Leo, who was reported missing fifteen years ago. He’s here with me now and needs someone to pick him up.” The silence on the other end was absolute. It stretched on, heavy and deafening, each tick of the clock a hammer blow against my heart. I was about to give up, to tell the officer never mind, when her voice came through, cutting through the silence. “I’ll be there shortly.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and slumped back into the hard plastic chair. One by one, I watched the other passengers from the train get picked up by their families. Some reunions were tearful explosions of joy, people clinging to each other as if they’d never let go. Others were cold, tense standoffs, filled with resentment and accusations. It seemed I wasn’t the only one whose reappearance was an inconvenience. Many of our partners had given up, rebuilt their lives, started new families. Our return wasn’t a miracle; it was a complication, a burden. The anxiety coiled in my stomach again. When I saw Ava, what would I say? How would I face her? Would she hate me for disrupting the life she’d built without me? Fear crept in, a cold shadow that I didn’t notice had turned into dusk outside. “Hey,” the officer said softly. “It’s getting late. You could… you could come home with me for the night.” I looked around, dazed. The station was nearly empty. All the other passengers were gone. I was the last one left, unclaimed. Just then, the sharp click-clack of heels echoed down the hallway. A young, sharply dressed woman hurried toward me, clutching a faded photograph. “Mr. Leo?” she asked. I nodded. “I’m so sorry for the delay, the traffic was a nightmare. Ms. Ava sent me to pick you up. My name is Chelsea.” A pang of disappointment hit me—Ava hadn’t come herself. But it was quickly followed by a wave of relief. The release paperwork was simple. Just a signature. Leo — Chelsea. The name signed next to mine belonged to a girl I’d known for less than a minute. Not my wife. Not my mother. “This way, Mr. Leo,” Chelsea said, leading me to a sleek, black car parked at the curb. It was larger and more futuristic than any car I’d ever seen. I didn’t expect Ava to be inside, but there she was. She looked exactly like she had on the billboard, dressed in a sophisticated dress, her expression focused as she swiped through something on a thin, glowing slate in her hands. A memory flashed in my mind: us, getting ready for our wedding. Ava hated being confined. Hated dresses. She’d fought me for days about wearing one for the wedding photos. It was only when I’d half-jokingly threatened, “If you don’t wear it, I’ll find someone who will,” that she’d finally relented. I worried she’d show up to the ceremony in a t-shirt. Now, looking at her, I wondered if she’d ever worn a dress for me at all. Ethan had been the quiet, studious star of our department in college. I never thought Ava, with her wild energy and rebellious streak, would ever get his attention. But she did. For him, she shed her tomboy persona, abandoned her crew of misfit friends, and started wearing skirts, pretending to be a model student. I knew it was an act. That wildness was etched into her soul. Their romance lasted exactly one month. We had known each other since we were kids in diapers. To me, it felt like she’d just been lost for a month. After her and Ethan, we fell together naturally, got married, and were happy… until the day I saw them together again. Chelsea opened the back door for me. “Ma’am, Mr. Leo is here.” Ava finally looked up. Our eyes met. There was no joy. No anger. No shock. Just a calm, unnerving stillness. 3 “Leo?” Just yesterday morning, I had kissed that face. Now, it felt like I was looking at a stranger. “Yeah,” I mumbled, sliding in beside her. The small space immediately felt charged with a strange tension. She went right back to her work, her fingers flying across the glass slate. No greeting. No awkward silence filled with unspoken questions. It was as if my sudden reappearance hadn’t caused a single ripple in her life. A bitter disappointment settled in my gut. Fine. If she was going to ignore me, even to kick me out, she could at least have the decency to say it to my face. So, I decided to strike first. “Did my parents know you were cheating on me before they died?” A sharp hiss of indrawn breath came from the front seat. The temperature in the car seemed to drop twenty degrees. I saw Ava’s brow furrow almost imperceptibly, a flicker of anger in her eyes. Was she mad that I’d dared to tarnish her precious first love’s reputation? “There was nothing to know,” she said, her voice cool and even. “Of course, they didn’t.” She paused. “Rest up tonight. I’ll take you to visit their graves in a few days.” Nothing to know? Was she saying it was over between her and Ethan? That it ended after I disappeared? Then why did her assistant call me ‘Mr. Leo’ and not her husband? The silence returned, colder than before. I fought back a surge of anger and turned to look out the window, immediately captivated by the world flashing by. Dazzling commercial districts, skyscrapers that scraped the heavens. Countless glowing screens made it feel like daytime, with celebrities frozen mid-pose inside them. The whole city was a kaleidoscope of light and color. “Ava, what the hell is that!” I yelped, slapping her arm instinctively and pointing at a massive cube on the sidewalk from which a giant, holographic hand was suddenly extending. Startled by my own outburst, I flinched, my head ducking right into the crook of her shoulder. Her body went rigid. She didn’t push me away, but she didn’t touch me either. “Sorry,” I mumbled, my face flushing hot as I scrambled to sit up straight. “I’m… not used to my new identity as a country bumpkin.” I stole a glance out the window. The giant hand was gone, replaced by a lush, impossibly realistic forest inside the cube. “It’s 3D holographic technology,” she explained, smoothing the fabric of her dress where I’d grabbed it. Her eyes never left her work. “It creates immersive experiences.” “So… it’s fake?” “Yes.” Another half-hour passed in silence before the car finally stopped in front of a magnificent, castle-like building with the words “The Grand Regent Hotel” etched in gold above the entrance. “Mr. Leo, we’ve arrived at the hotel,” Chelsea announced from the front. “You can get a good night’s rest here.” So, she wasn’t taking me home. “I’m not going anywhere,” I snapped, my anger finally boiling over. “I want to go home. Ava, take me home!” That house was my parents’ life savings. Even if she had remarried, she wouldn’t be living there with Ethan. She couldn’t. And if she was going to cast me aside, she owed me a clear, clean break. 4 Perhaps she heard the raw fury in my voice, because she finally put down her device and looked at me, really looked at me. “I’m sorry, Leo. The old building was torn down for redevelopment. You can stay here tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll help you pick out a new place you like, okay?” Chelsea chimed in from the front seat. “It’s true, Mr. Leo. The whole Northwood district was demolished. It’s a shopping mall now. You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you just rest here for tonight?” A mall. Of course, it was a mall. I shoved the car door open and slammed it shut behind me. I was about to storm off, to go anywhere but with them, but Chelsea didn’t get out to show me the way. As I stood there, confused, Ava emerged from the car. I thought she was going to try and explain, but she just walked past me, heading straight for the hotel’s grand entrance. “What’s she doing?” I asked Chelsea, bewildered. “The President has a meeting at a nearby branch office early tomorrow morning, so she’ll be staying at the hotel tonight as well.” Chelsea added, “In the room next to yours, Mr. Leo.” Like she needed to explain. As if I cared about sleeping in the same room as her. I followed her begrudgingly. The lobby was breathtakingly opulent, a cavern of marble and crystal that made me feel like I’d stumbled into a royal palace. Money felt good, I guess. Good enough to live like a king. I remembered the cheap, rundown motel Ava and I stayed in once when we were young. The creaky wooden bed, the peeling wallpaper. In that shabby room, we gave ourselves to each other completely. We were poor, but we only had eyes for each other. Now, even though the floor beneath my feet was polished to a mirror shine, the person standing beside me was a stranger. “This is your room, Mr. Leo,” Chelsea said, opening a door. “If you need anything, just call me. The phone is on the nightstand.” The suite was enormous, several times larger than our old apartment. It was filled with things I’d never seen before. A block of stone that produced water when you waved your hand under it. A machine that prepared a hot drink at the sound of your voice. A bed so soft you sank into it. Everything was so luxurious, so perfect. And yet, my heart ached with a pain so intense I could barely breathe. The emotions I’d suppressed all day finally broke free. Tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable. “Mom, Dad,” I sobbed into the empty room. “She betrayed me. Ava betrayed me!” In a single day, I’d lost my wife and my parents. Why? Why did I have to see them together that day? If I had never gotten on that train, would my parents still be alive? I don’t know how long I cried before a soft knock came from the door. “Who is it?” I rasped. “It’s me.” Ava. I scrambled to my feet, trying to pull myself together. I went to the stone sink to splash water on my face, but it wouldn’t work. Then, suddenly, a shower of water rained down from the ceiling. “Ah!” I yelped, slipping on the wet floor and crashing down hard. Before I could process what had happened, I was soaked to the bone. Click. The lock on the door disengaged, and Ava was standing in the doorway. “What happened?” I looked up at her, my eyes red and swollen, and the dam broke all over again. “I was just trying to wash my face,” I cried, the words tumbling out between sobs. “I don’t know how to use any of this stuff! I don’t know you anymore! Why? Why did I just go to sleep and wake up to find everything… everything is gone!” Whenever I was upset, Ava used to magically produce a candy from her pocket to soothe me. This time was no different. Staring at the familiar orange candy in her outstretched hand, I felt a flicker of surprise. I always wondered if she was some kind of magician. She always had candy, but I’d never once seen her eat a piece herself. “Your skin is sensitive. I brought you some cotton clothes. They’re on the bed,” she said softly. “Eat the candy, get changed before you catch a cold. I’ll clean this up.” She still remembered. I took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it in my mouth. The familiar, sweet citrus flavor flooded my senses. My favorite. By the time I came out in the fresh clothes, she had a glass of warm water and a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it waiting for me, just like she used to every morning after we were married. Except back then, I was the one who prepared it for her. “Wash up and get some rest,” she said, her voice gentle. “I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. If you need anything, just call out.” “Are you and…” Are you and Ethan together? The words caught in my throat. I couldn’t ask. It didn’t matter. I’d find out soon enough. That night, I slept like the dead, a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until morning. When I woke up, a brand-new suit was laid out on the nightstand. It was the one I’d admired in a shop window fifteen years ago but could never afford. The sofa was empty. The company name. The orange candy. The suit I’d wanted for years. Did she… did she still love me? Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe what I saw at the mall wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe it was just a chance encounter. A jolt of excitement shot through me. I had to find her, had to ask her, had to clear the air. If I could just understand, maybe we could fix this. Maybe she could be my Ava again. I washed up quickly and opened the door to find Chelsea waiting for me. “Good morning, Mr. Leo. Ms. Ava instructed me to take you to the restaurant to meet her once you were awake.” “Okay, thank you.” I spotted Ava as soon as we entered the dining area. But she wasn’t alone. Sitting across from her, bathed in the morning light, was Ethan. Even after fifteen years, he was still just as handsome, with the same sunny, charming smile.

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Five years ago, my fiancé died in the line of duty. No body was ever found. But this year, on August 20th, at 8:17 PM, Captain Miller called me personally. He said they found him. They found Julian. He wasn’t dead. He was alive and well. And he was about to get married. 1 On the way to the small coastal town, Captain Miller and the other officers kept trying to prepare me. But I wouldn’t listen. I was the woman he’d chased for two years, cherished for five, and proposed to twice. How could he forget me? I rubbed the simple band on my finger. He had already asked me to marry him. How could he marry someone else? A flight, then a bus. Five hours on the bus left me dizzy and sick. After ten grueling hours, the four of us finally arrived in the town. “There,” Captain Miller said, pointing to a bed-and-breakfast called “The Sunny Spot.” The once-unknown inn had gone viral after a tourist posted a set of photos. The owner, captured in a few of the shots, had gained a legion of fans overnight. Even in profile, he was magnetic. Captain Miller glanced at me. “He doesn’t remember anything. You have to—” My gaze was locked on the door, my senses shutting down. When Captain Miller pushed the door open, a wind chime made of seashells chimed softly. Before us was a large courtyard with a cobblestone path leading to the house. A massive swing set sat in the middle of the yard, surrounded by a golden retriever and several cats. I stared at the animals, stunned. Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind a curtain of beaded shells. He was tall and lean, the muscles of his arms tight and defined beneath a black t-shirt. His profile was sharp and clean. The moment I saw him, my body froze. A tingling numbness spread down my spine, my mind buzzing. It felt as if all my bodily functions had ceased, leaving me only with the strength to stare, unblinking, at the man before me. I’d seen men who looked eighty percent like Julian, some even with the same beauty mark under their eye. But one look was all it took for me to know they weren’t him. This man, however, was different from the boy I remembered. His features were more mature, more angular, with an added layer of coldness. I moved closer, drawn by an uncontrollable force, until I could see the beauty mark under his eye, the red cord around his neck… “Ju… lian…” I choked out his name, my voice trembling, terrified of scaring him away. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with an unnerving, absolute strangeness. “What?” “Julian…” I could barely form the word. The man looked at me coldly. “Sorry, miss. You have the wrong person.” But I could be wrong about anything in this life except for Julian. He was half of my soul. Captain Miller quickly stepped in, pulling me back. “Excuse me, do you have any vacant rooms?” Julian crossed his arms, studying our group. “Yes. How many?” “Two.” “Come in.” He turned and walked back inside without a second glance. I had naively believed that the moment he saw me, he would remember. The moment he saw me, everything would be different. But he looked at me with the eyes of a stranger, sharp and laced with an annoyance at being disturbed. I hadn’t cried when I heard he was alive. I hadn’t cried when I heard he was getting married. But thinking of the look in his eyes just now, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, threatening to burst. The tears finally came, hot and unstoppable. 2 “IDs.” Captain Miller handed over our identification cards. As the man took them, I saw it clearly: the tip of his left pinky was missing. He walked towards the counter, a slight limp in his right leg. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob. Captain Miller took the room keys and had someone quickly lead me away. It took a long time before I could find my voice in the quiet of the room. “How did he… end up like this?” On the way here, I had sworn I would slap him across the face the moment I saw him. The heartless bastard. How could he forget me and marry someone else? But seeing him, all I wanted to do was hold him. I couldn’t bear to hurt him. I stayed in my room for what felt like an eternity, until Officer Davis, worried I might do something drastic, insisted I come out. Everyone was in the backyard having a barbecue. I saw him immediately, grilling skewers over the fire. Captain Miller was standing next to him, and they seemed to be getting along. “Nora? Are you feeling better?” I nodded. “Noah, let me introduce you. This is Nora,” Captain Miller said. I slowly extended my hand, fighting to keep it from shaking. “Nora Hayes. It’s nice to meet you.” His hand, warm and strong, gave mine a brief squeeze. “Noah. Nice to meet you.” It was the greeting of strangers. In that instant, my nose stung with the memory of the day he proposed. He had held me, his voice impossibly tender as he murmured, “Hello, Mrs. Archer.” It was all gone now. Looking at him, I had a million questions, but all I could manage was, “It’s beautiful here. Are you… happy?” He expertly flipped the skewers on the grill. “Yeah, it’s good,” he replied casually. That’s good. As he spoke, a chicken wing fell off the grill. He glanced towards the door. “Potato, come here.” Potato was the name of the orange tabby we had adopted together. He had named him. “He’s fat and round,” he’d said. “Let’s call him Potato.” Watching the golden retriever trot over, wagging its tail, a lump formed in my throat. “His name is Potato?” “Yeah. He’s fat and round. What else would you call him?” I turned away, secretly wiping a tear. Only he would come up with a name that simple. Once the food was ready, we all gathered around a table. I grabbed a can of beer and took a long swallow. The bitter taste filled my mouth as I watched the man across from me. The beauty mark I always teased him about was still there at the corner of his eye. The red cord was still around his neck, though I didn’t know if it was the one I had given him. Nothing felt real. Officer Davis passed out the skewers, placing a mushroom skewer on his plate. I reached for it before he could. “He can’t eat mushrooms.” Everyone at the table suddenly looked at me. As I fumbled for an explanation, a figure ran up and jumped onto Noah’s back, hugging his neck affectionately. “Noah, I missed you so much!” Noah quickly bent over, one hand protectively supporting the person on his back. “Get down,” he chided, but his tone was pure affection. He pulled the person from his back and into his arms, introducing her with a smile. “This is my fiancée, Maya.” 3 I was still holding the mushroom skewer, staring blankly at the bright, smiling girl in front of me. A sharp pain shot through my chest, as if I’d been struck by a hammer, leaving me breathless. “Hi everyone, I’m Maya, Noah’s fiancée. Welcome to Oceancrest!” Captain Miller and the others exchanged greetings. Maya was bubbly and talkative, complimenting everyone in turn. She looked at me and said, “Nora, you’re so beautiful! And so slim, I’m so jealous! Your hair is amazing too. Not like mine, I’m going bald.” She suddenly seemed to remember something and turned to the man behind her. “It’s definitely how you dry my hair. You have to be more careful, or I’ll be a bald bride next week.” Noah ruffled her hair, a fond, helpless smile on his face. “Okay.” Her eyes were so clear, untouched by hardship, and filled with excitement for her wedding. She reminded me so much of myself, back then. “A wedding?” Officer Davis asked. “Yes! It’s next Wednesday. We hope you can all be there!” I opened another beer. Maya reached for one too, but Noah snatched it away. “No.” Maya pouted. “Just one sip.” She then leaned in and, ignoring the rest of us, gave him a quick kiss. “Please, Noah? Just one little sip!” “Drink this.” He handed her a white thermos. When she opened it, the scent of roses filled the air. Maya wrinkled her nose. “Roses? Noah, I’ve told you a million times, I hate floral tea. Why do you always forget?” “I don’t know… I just make it out of habit.” Hearing his words, I turned away and drained the last of my beer. I never used to drink enough water. In high school, my voice would get so hoarse from studying aloud that I could barely speak. To get me to hydrate, Julian would make me all sorts of drinks—floral teas, fruit infusions, oolong tea. In the winter, he’d even brew me apple and pear soups. Every time I finished a glass, the proud Julian Archer would treat my pink thermos like a holy relic. Seeing me with the beer, Maya tried to bargain again. “Look, Nora’s already had a whole can. Maybe her great hair comes from drinking beer.” “You’re impossible.” I looked at the beer can in my hand and smiled bitterly. “My old boyfriend never let me drink either. I was a one-drink-wonder. He was very strict with me.” Maya looked at me. “So, he won’t get mad at you for drinking now?” I glanced at the man behind her and shook my head. “He stopped caring a long time ago.” It seemed I’d said the wrong thing. Maya looked at me apologetically and stopped pestering Noah, obediently drinking the tea from his thermos. I only ate the mushroom skewer, but I drank a lot of beer. Feeling dizzy, I excused myself. As I walked down the steps, I heard Maya’s bright laughter. I turned to look. She was clinging to Noah’s back like a koala, waving her arms and chattering away. Noah, occasionally stumbling under her weight, patiently cleared the table, looking completely used to it. Julian was never a patient person. I thought I was the only one he was patient with. I thought I was the only one he would ever love. Looking at Maya, whose face was overflowing with happiness, I clutched my chest, the pain so intense I felt like I was dying. That should have been me! The one being spoiled rotten by Julian Archer should have been me! I fought the urge to pull them apart and forced myself back to my room. I emptied my bag on the floor, frantically searching until I found my pills. I swallowed them, and the overwhelming wave of emotion finally began to recede. When Officer Davis came in, I was calm again. “I thought you were going to make a scene.” I looked out the window. “I was planning on it. But then… I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” “I saw you brought a lot of things. Are you trying to help him get his memory back?” The box contained a decade of our lives: the first note he ever wrote me, his first love letter, every birthday gift from my 18th to my 28th, our first photo together, and our first wedding photo. I shook my head. “I never planned to.” Officer Davis looked at me, shocked. “Why?” Remembering the tragic death of Julian’s parents, I closed my eyes, steadying my emotions. “The pain of losing family… I don’t want him to go through that twice.” 4 The next day, I woke up late. By the time I had gotten ready and left with my sketchbook, it was well past lunchtime. Captain Miller waved me over. “Nora, we saved you some food.” Everyone was chatting around the wooden table in the courtyard. When Maya saw me, she dashed inside and came back out with an orange envelope, presenting it to me like a treasure. “Nora, we don’t have many family members. We’d be honored if you would come to our wedding.” It was a formal invitation. I took the envelope, unable to find the courage to open it. Maya urged me on. “Nora, you’re an artist. Can you tell us what you think of the design?” The single sheet of paper felt as heavy as lead. “Here, let me see. This color is beautiful,” Officer Davis said, quickly taking it. “I think so too! Noah picked the orange. I wanted purple, but the orange looks better. Nora, what’s your favorite color?” I set down my sketchbook and pointed to my own orange shirt. Before high school, I didn’t have a favorite color. Then one day, I wore an orange jacket, and Julian told me I looked beautiful in orange. From that day on, orange became my favorite color. “Nora, you and my Noah have such similar taste!” My Noah. The words grated on my ears. Once upon a time, Julian loved to introduce me as, “My Nora.” Officer Davis, noticing my expression, quickly took the invitation from my hands. “The cartoon on the inside looks just like you, Maya. It’s so cute. But is this supposed to be sunset? Is the wedding in the evening?” Maya rubbed her cheeks. “That was Noah’s idea! Because he said…” “Because some people can’t wake up in the morning,” I finished for her. Maya stared at me. “Nora! How did you know?! That’s exactly what Noah said! But the most important thing is that Noah loves sunsets.” Julian once told me that sunset was his favorite time of day, because at sunset, his Sleeping Beauty would finally become his girlfriend again. I’ve always needed a lot of sleep. Waking up at 5:30 AM in high school was pure torture. For three years, every morning, I would sit on the back of Julian’s bike, my eyes closed, my arms around him, sleeping. I could have three dreams in a ten-minute break between classes. Every time I woke up, his school jacket would be draped over me. I remember once, half-asleep, someone sighed in my ear. “You sleep so much. What am I going to do with you on our wedding day?” Years later, on my twenty-fourth birthday, I woke up to the scratch of his stubble. I pushed him away and tried to go back to sleep. He pulled me into his arms, gently patting my back, his voice hoarse with sleep. “Nora, let’s have our wedding at sunset.” I mumbled in agreement. He kissed my forehead and let out a contented sigh. “I have to make sure my little sleepyhead is well-rested. What if she gets cranky and decides not to marry me? Who would I complain to then?” And now, it wasn’t that I wouldn’t marry him; it was that he was marrying someone else. There really was no one to complain to. I picked up my sketchbook. In that moment, Maya noticed the ring on my ring finger. Following her gaze, I wiggled my finger. “Because he said the same thing.” “Are you married, Nora?” “Yes. For five years.” Maya was surprised. “Then where’s your husband? Didn’t he come with you?” I looked at the man walking towards us in the distance and gave a slight shake of my head.

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I spent three years building Leo Vaughn. I was there when he was a nobody, a brilliant ghost haunting the fringes of the design world. I was there, by his side, all the way to the top, to the deafening roar of his success. We had a plan. A pact. Seven years together, and then a ring, a wedding, a lifetime. But on the eve of that seventh year, all I got was his contempt. I was standing in a CVS aisle, the small, chalky bottle of his favorite stomach meds cool in my hand, when my phone buzzed with a text from a friend. A video. Leo, holding court in a private lounge, drunk and loud and laughing with his friends. Laughing about me. “An old woman, man. I’m over it,” his voice slurred through the tiny speaker, laced with a cruelty I’d never heard before. “Honestly, the thrill is gone.” A pause, a swig from a bottle. “Besides, I paid my dues. She got what she wanted for the last few years.” 1 I pushed the door open. The booming laughter in the private room died instantly, replaced by a thick, suffocating silence. “What are you doing here?” Leo’s voice was sharp with irritation. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head like a shroud, momentarily obscuring his face. Then, as if remembering some long-forgotten rule, he quickly stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray. That’s when I saw the girl curled up in his lap, fast asleep. He moved with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in months, gently draping his suit jacket over her, shielding her face from view. He shot a glare at his friend. “Put that out,” he snapped. “You’ll choke her with that smoke.” A bitter, acidic taste filled my mouth. I watched the scene, a silent movie of my own irrelevance. Finally, his friend, Rick, decided to play the diplomat. “Clara, hey! This is just my little sister, Annie. She’s wiped, poor kid. Couldn’t even make it to midnight before passing out.” He tried to sell me that pathetic excuse, as if I were some clueless investor he was trying to scam. I didn’t say a word. The silence stretched, and Leo’s patience snapped. “What do you want, Clara? What is the point of this?” I took a deep breath, the stale air of the lounge filling my lungs, and walked toward him. His arm tightened instinctively around the sleeping girl. I saw his friends tense, their eyes tracking me as if I were a predator closing in on their kill. It was almost funny. In the space of a single evening, I had become the monster in their story. I stopped a few feet away from him, a safe distance. “I’m here to end this.” If the room had been quiet before, it was now a vacuum. I could hear the faint hum of the ice machine in the corner, the soft whisper of someone’s breathing. Leo’s brow furrowed in confusion, a silent question in his eyes. You? Are you being this generous? You’re just letting this go? God, I hated myself in that moment, for knowing every flicker of emotion that crossed his face, for being able to read him like a book I had written myself. “Clara, come on, don’t talk like that,” Rick stammered, still trying to patch the gaping hole in the evening. “Leo was just looking after my sister for me. It’s not what you think.” They had no idea I’d been standing outside the door, that I’d heard everything. They thought this was just a simple, garden-variety fit of jealousy. The noise seemed to stir the girl in Leo’s arms. She shifted, murmuring something in her sleep. He immediately softened, his voice a low, soothing hum. He gently patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Go back to sleep. You’ve had a rough couple of days.” My own emotions felt raw, exposed. I couldn’t deny it. In that moment, watching him, I envied that girl with an ache so sharp it felt like a physical blow. “If you’re done with your scene, you should go,” Leo said, his eyes still fixed on the girl in his lap. “Don’t you have that big board meeting tomorrow? Can’t have the great Clara Sutton, the titan of industry, losing her composure over nothing. It would be bad for your brand.” His friends mumbled in agreement, their voices low. “Yeah, Clara, we’re all here. We’ll keep an eye on him for you.” I stood there for a long time, the silence my only response. “I’ll have my lawyer calculate the market value of your shares in The Sutton Group,” I said, my voice flat and steady. “As for the Aperture Designs partnership, I’ll be handing it off to my subordinate. I’m giving you what you want, Leo.” You’re free now. You can be with whoever you want. A new kind of understanding slowly dawned on their faces. They started to realize this wasn’t about jealousy. You don’t liquidate a shared life over a simple misunderstanding. This was a demolition. Leo finally grasped it. But his pride, his arrogance, wouldn’t let him accept it. He still thought it was a tactic. “Don’t think this little drama is going to work on me, Clara,” he scoffed. “You can play your games all you want.” He sneered. “And if I really wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn’t need you to graciously ‘bow out.’ I don’t need your charity.” He didn’t believe me. He couldn’t. He saw my gaze linger on the sleeping girl, and his expression hardened. A fierce, protective glare. “You lay a hand on her, you so much as look at her wrong, and I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell.” It wasn’t a shout, but the threat hung in the air, a low growl that vibrated in my bones. He truly believed I would stoop so low as to hurt a child. But I have my own pride. He had already called me old, boring, a thrill that was gone. Why would I subject myself to any more of this? “Ma’am, weren’t you here to bring Mr. Vaughn his medication?” my driver asked softly from the doorway, reminding me of my original, pathetic mission. I looked at the man I had loved, cradling another woman. It was clear now. A gesture of care from me was no longer a gift. It was just another piece of trash he had to deal with. I closed my eyes. Back in the car, I tossed the bottle of pills onto the back seat. This year, spring felt like it was holding its breath. 2 The next morning, Leo arrived at the office for the signing, trailing the stale scent of last night’s liquor. My assistant, as she always did, moved to leave the seat beside him open for me. I stopped her with a small gesture. “I won’t be participating in the signing today,” I announced to the room. “Just bring the finalized contract to my office when it’s done.” Leo’s face went cold. “Decided to become a silent partner now, Clara?” The sudden chill from the usually easygoing Mr. Vaughn sent a ripple of anxiety through the junior staff in the conference room. My assistant tugged nervously at my sleeve, her eyes pleading with me to smooth things over. For her sake, I relented, taking a seat near the door to at least be present. “Don’t be ridiculous, Leo.” She let out a slow, quiet breath of relief. The young woman distributing the documents was unfamiliar, but I recognized her immediately. It was the girl from last night. Annie. Perhaps it was the intensity of my gaze, but she finally looked up, meeting my eyes. “Ms. Sutton? Is there a problem with the documents?” I hadn’t noticed last night, but here, in the bright morning light of the conference room, I could see how truly lovely she was. A delicate face, a soft, sweet voice. I could understand the appeal. How could I, a woman carved from years of boardrooms and battles, ever compete with that? I smiled faintly and shook my head, a silent signal for her to continue. But as she turned away, the hem of her dress caught the edge of a mug, sending scalding hot water cascading across the table. “Ah—!” she cried out. Leo, who had been watching us with a hawk’s intensity, was on his feet in an instant. He rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. “Annie, are you okay? Are you hurt?” The raw, undisguised panic on his face was something I’d never seen before. It was a revelation. I never knew he was capable of that kind of emotion. I glanced down at my own arm, splashed by the wave of hot tea. Yes, that did sting a bit. “Did you forget what I told you last night?” After settling Annie down, Leo turned on me, his face a mask of fury. The atmosphere in the room crackled, suddenly charged with his anger. “I told you. I told you if you touched her, I would make you regret it,” he snarled, his voice low and menacing. “Did you really think I wouldn’t do it?” He remembered every word he’d said about her, but not a single one I’d said about us. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. The pressure was intense, even through the fabric of my blazer. “Leo! Are you insane? That’s Clara!” his friend, Rick, hissed, rushing to his side. “Think about what you’re doing! Think about everyone who works for you! Are you trying to throw away everything we’ve worked for?” The last part was whispered directly into Leo’s ear, but in the tense silence, I heard it perfectly. Everything we’ve worked for? A cold, uneasy feeling began to spread through my chest. Seeing that Leo was beyond reason, Rick turned his attention to me, trying to appeal to my sense of decorum. “Clara… we’re in the office. In front of everyone. Let’s not give them a show, okay? How about we all just take a step back?” I let out a dry, humorless laugh and pried his hand from my wrist. “I think Mr. Vaughn is mistaken,” I said, my voice carrying across the silent room. “We terminated our relationship last night. What possible reason would I have to harm Ms. Sullivan?” Rick’s face froze, his peacemaker smile turning to stone. Leo just looked confused. “When did we break up?” he demanded. “Clara, you don’t have to make up excuses like that to save face.” Rick, the only other witness to last night’s conversation, just stood there, paralyzed and unwilling to intervene. A profound weariness washed over me. It was like arguing with a wall. There was nothing I could do. “Leo! You’ve got it all wrong! It was my fault, I knocked it over!” Annie came rushing back from the restroom, dabbing at her arm with a wet paper towel. She was out of breath. “Let go of her! You’re hurting her! Ms. Sutton got burned, too!” The girl’s voice seemed to pull him back from the brink. The rage in his eyes flickered, replaced by confusion. Seeing how easily she could calm him, a familiar acidic sting rose in my throat. He released my arm, his eyes falling to the damp spot on my sleeve where his hand had been. He still looked suspicious. He replayed the scene in his mind, trying to find a motive, a reason for me to have done it, and coming up empty. He immediately turned back to Annie, fussing over her, checking her arm from every angle, terrified that she might have been hurt while he wasn’t looking. Then he turned his cold gaze back to me. “You know, Clara, you always have this look. Like you’ve just screwed someone over and have no idea how it happened. That innocent act,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Stop pretending. I know what you are. You’re a liar.” 3 A liar? What had I ever lied to him about? I glanced at the security camera in the corner of the room. I couldn’t be bothered to waste company resources pulling the footage to prove my innocence in such a petty squabble. “If that’s what you believe,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion, “then tell me. How should I compensate Ms. Sullivan for her trouble? Since it was, after all, my fault.” I gave my assistant a slight shake of the head, warning him not to argue on my behalf. My employees didn’t need to get dragged into my personal messes. Leo’s breathing was still ragged, but the worst of his rage had passed. “Annie has always admired you,” he said, his voice flat. “She wants to work with you. I want you to take her on, let her work by your side for a while.” A collective, silent gasp went through the room. Even the employees from Aperture Designs were stunned by the audacity of the request. So that was it. He wanted to plant a spy. “Are you out of your mind? You can’t seriously be agreeing to this!” Maya slammed her hand on my desk later that day. “You know he’s just trying to tear your company down from the inside!” I dropped my head into my hands, the fight draining out of me. “I don’t have a choice, Maya…” In a strange way, having her here, where I can see her, might actually buy me some time. As soon as I’d felt that cold dread in the meeting, I’d had my team start digging into our business dealings from the past six months. It turned out Leo had started laying the groundwork for this a year ago. He was planning a hostile takeover. He wanted to rip my own company out from under me. I spent three sleepless nights reviewing every transaction, every contract, every move he’d made. I recognized his strategy. It was a mirror image of everything I had ever taught him. But I had woken up too late. The damage was already done. The financial bleeding was getting worse. I couldn’t figure out where he’d found such a catastrophic vulnerability, how he was able to move so fast, to pin me to the butcher’s block and start carving me up. How could he be so cruel? Did he really hate me this much? One by one, my projects started to collapse. Long-term suppliers began pulling out, choosing to pay enormous breach-of-contract penalties rather than continue working with me. It was a cascade of disasters, and I was drowning. Finally, the day the investigators showed up at my office, I knew I had to surrender. I knew I had to face him. I found him in his office, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I broke the suffocating silence between us. “Leo,” I asked, the question tearing at my throat. “Does it have to be this brutal?” He leaned back in his chair behind his massive desk, the picture of casual arrogance. He had been waiting for this moment, for me to come crawling to him. “Kneel,” he said softly. “Kneel for me, right here, and I might consider letting The Sutton Group live.” His words made it sound as if I’d committed some unspeakable crime against him. “What did I do wrong?” A look of pure, unadulterated disbelief washed over his face. He laughed, a short, sharp, ugly sound. “You have the audacity to ask me that? After you stole my design portfolio? After you paid people to sabotage my first company? You really have no shame, do you, Clara?” He shook his head. “I always knew you were a performer.” No one knew better than me how much blood, sweat, and tears Leo had poured into his work to get where he was. And all I had ever done was try to lighten his load, to handle the things that drained his energy so he could focus on what he did best. I remembered that period, right before his company went public. He was running on fumes, completely exhausted. To give him the space he needed to focus on the new product line, I quietly took over all the schmoozing, all the late-night dinners and glad-handing with investors, just to clear his path. It was true that his design portfolio had almost been stolen back then. But what he never knew was that I was the one who discovered the plot. If I hadn’t intervened, Aperture Designs would have imploded before it ever began. The idea that I would steal from him was insane. He blew a cloud of smoke directly into my face. I couldn’t help but choke on it. He looked at me, his eyes cold and distant. “With you,” he said, “I think I’ve been far too soft.” 4 Annie was installed as my new assistant. Her work ethic wasn’t exactly stellar, and she had a knack for causing small, inconvenient disasters. But I had to admit, she had a creative spark. She’d come up with wild, out-of-the-box ideas that my most seasoned employees, people who’d been with me for years, would never have dreamed of. “Clara!” she chirped one evening, her eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm. “Can I please take you to dinner tonight?” I hesitated, looking at her bright, eager face. Could this girl really be a willing participant in Leo’s plan to destroy me? But the moment we sat down at the restaurant, my phone rang. It was my head of security. “Ms. Sutton, it’s just as you suspected. Someone broke into your office right after you left with Ms. Sullivan,” he said, his voice grim. “They’ve leaked the evidence from the old Williamson antitrust case. The authorities are on their way to seal the building.” And just like that, in a single evening, the empire I had spent more than a decade building was about to be burned to the ground by the man I loved. I knew he was capable of this, but the sheer, brazen arrogance of it still sent a chill down my spine. “Annie, I thought you loved spicy food,” a voice said from behind me. “Why did you order all this bland stuff?” As if on cue, Leo appeared at our table, a radar-like precision to his timing. He took the menu from her hand and flagged down a waiter, ordering several notoriously fiery dishes. “Today is a day for celebration,” he announced, placing a small, elegantly wrapped box on the table in front of her. “Happy birthday, Annie.” Of course. He’d chosen her birthday to deliver the final, crushing blow. He always knew exactly how to hurt me the most. I watched him, and beneath the smooth, charming facade, I could see it—the deep, triumphant glee of a man who had finally won. Annie gasped as she opened the expensive gift. “Wow, I’ve never gotten anything this nice before! Thank you, Leo!” The sight was like a shard of glass in my eye. Perhaps buoyed by his good mood, Leo magnanimously served me a piece of fish from one of the new dishes. “You have to try this, Clara!” Annie urged, oblivious. “This place is famous for it. It’s insanely, unbelievably spicy!” Leo just smiled and patted her head, a gesture of pure affection. “Are you happy now, Leo?” I asked, my voice raspy. “Now that you’ve pushed me into a corner?” He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise at the hoarseness of my voice. “Actually, Clara, you should be thanking Annie. If she hadn’t been so eager to work with you, your company wouldn’t have lasted this long.” I managed a weak, disappointed smile. He was so young, still so naive in his cruelty. Just then, Leo’s phone buzzed. A message. I saw his face darken as he read it. The court had dismissed his anonymous tip regarding the Williamson case. The reason given: case invalid, already adjudicated. He immediately blamed me. “You lied to me again.” The same old accusation. I stared blankly at the bubbling red oil in the hot pot. If I hadn’t preemptively submitted the real evidence of Mark Williamson’s corporate espionage years ago, I would be completely ruined right now, just as he had wished. Numbly, I ate the piece of fish he had served me. I slowly, deliberately, raised my eyes to his face. There it was. The familiar cold indifference, now mixed with a fresh wave of anger. So, he really had forgotten. He’d forgotten that I couldn’t eat anything spicy. As the burning sensation began to crawl its way up my esophagus, a searing pain spreading through my stomach, I calmly took out my phone and dialed 911. Leo watched me, a contemptuous smirk playing on his lips. “What’s this? What kind of pathetic act are you putting on now? That trick doesn’t work on me anymore, Clara. I’m not going soft on you ever again.” His voice started to fade, the edges blurring into a dull roar in my ears. Even as the paramedics loaded me onto the gurney, his vitriol didn’t stop. The last thing I heard as my consciousness began to slip away was his voice, dripping with venom. “Liars like you deserve to go to hell. You’d better make this one convincing. In fact, it would be best if you never woke up at all.”

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